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CALLING ALL QUEERS, POOFS, AND FREAKS!
Got your attention, didn’t it?
Pink toad (or any other intolerant arsehole) got you down?
Feeling empowered to fight back in this war is one thing, but feeling empowered to love yourself is quite another.
(George says that bit sounds right cheesy—maybe he’s got a point)
Pumpkin juice & biscuits provided, come talk about your gay problems in a supportive (and attractive) group.
Meets here in the room of re-queer-ment Thursdays at 19:30.
Talk to Lee Jordan with any in-queer-ies
All are welcome (yes, even you)
*
Neville furrows his brow, reading the pink parchment on the bulletin board for the third time. They’ve just had another brilliant meeting, in which he successfully disarmed Harry (to everyone’s surprise).
DA meetings are always hell on his nerves, between the crush he’s harbored on Ginny since the Yule Ball, his lack of confidence in his defense abilities, and… the other thing. The Harry thing.
Neville’s known the real Harry Potter for almost five years. It’s not like he’s forgotten the legend of the Boy Who Lived—he’s simply learned that Harry is a normal person just like anyone else, albeit one who has endured tremendous trauma and regularly saves the Wizarding world. Harry is awkward and rubbish at Potions and can be remarkably thick about a lot of things, but Neville thinks that they’re friends.
Neville thinks Harry’s lessons bring out the best in him. In all of them, really.
Neville also thinks Harry’s quite cute.
It’s that last bit he finds confusing. He and Harry have known each other since they were eleven—have slept and showered and dressed next to each other for years without a second thought.
Now though, Neville finds his gaze lingering on Harry’s wand hand after he performs a complicated spell, or the luminous smile he gives to encourage their peers to do the same. Today, when that smile had been directed at him?—Neville felt like he could’ve cast a perfect corporeal Patronus.
And so it all seems a bit too convenient—his sudden interest in his fellow Gryffindor, the queer group meeting that happens to be tonight, in a room that provides the occupant with whatever they most desperately need. Could this be a prank? Lee Jordan is almost as mischievous as the Weasley twins—one of whom was mentioned by name in the message. And wait, does that mean Lee and George… are they both gay? Or are they just having a laugh at his expense?
“It does say ‘all are welcome’ for a reason, you know.”
He startles at the dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood, and turns to see her gazing serenely at the bulletin board.
“S-Sorry, do you mean—?”
“The meetings are quite nice,” she says conversationally. “It’s mostly the same folks each time, but they love newcomers as well. They were even kind to me when I joined. Usually when people meet me they call me names or take my things. Someone called Leo did both, once.”
Neville struggles to keep up.
“I’m sorry people treat you that way, Luna. You don’t deserve it.”
She turns to look him in the eye, and he can’t help mirroring the smile on her face.
“I appreciate that, Neville. It’s good to have friends.”
He chuckles and nods. “Yeah, it is.”
*
At dinner, Neville sits between Colin Creevey and Dean Thomas, both having animated conversations with the person seated opposite them. He slowly makes his way through his shepherd’s pie, grateful for the background noise.
Luna had said “there’s usually an open seat next to me, if you decide to come” before squeezing his arm and leaving him alone in the Room of Requirement. Sure, he has a Transfiguration essay to finish and could always use more practice with Expelliarmus, but the meeting likely won’t last too long anyway. And if the other members have been kind to Luna, Neville reckons they’d really be welcoming to all.
He straightens his posture as Colin leans across him to talk to someone down the Gryffindor table.
“Hey, Lee!”
Neville pauses chewing for a moment.
“Alright, Colin?” Lee calls back.
“Not bad! Have to miss the meeting tonight, sorry—Dennis needs help with something.”
Lee shrugs.
“Eh, no worries, mate. Next week?”
Colin nods eagerly, then turns back to his original conversation.
Neville remembers he still has food in his mouth and hurriedly swallows. Blimey, is everyone in the DA queer?
*
I need to find the place where Luna and the others are meeting.
He thinks as hard as he can, walking by the blank wall again and again. After his third pass, he waits expectantly for the door to appear.
Nothing happens.
Neville sighs and resumes his pacing back and forth. Why hadn’t that worked? He thinks of the exchange between Colin and Lee at dinner—of course, other people could overhear about the meetings—even the likes of Malfoy. The Room wouldn’t let just anyone in.
I need help figuring out if I’m gay.
Three more quick laps.
Nothing happens.
“Come on,” he mutters. He rolls up his jumper sleeves, just to have something to do.
As he does so, he hears his Gran’s voice in his head: No use being nimby-pimby about a thing—especially an important thing. If it’s “yes,” say “yes.” If it’s “no,” say “no.” You’ll spend your whole life ho-humming otherwise.
Surprisingly, the memory brings a fond smile to his face. It’s not often that Neville actually misses his grandmother while he’s at Hogwarts. She’d probably say something similar now: get to the point, boy!
With a quick glance either side to be sure the coast is clear, he stands tall and closes his eyes.
I need a place where I can be myself. Or where I can figure that out. With other people like me.
“Come on, you can do better than that,” he whispers through his teeth.
I need a supportive space where I can talk about my feelings with people who understand what I’m going through.
Neville’s eyes remain closed in concentration as he walks back and forth, his muscle memory leading the way. As he comes back to center, he hears the telltale sound of the door appearing.
He pumps his fist at his side. A quick look at his watch lets him know that he’s fifteen minutes late to the meeting.
If it’s “yes,” say “yes.”
“Now or never,” he tells himself. He wipes his sweaty hands on his trousers and opens the door.
*
Eight pairs of eyes land on Neville as he enters, their previous conversation halted.
Luna smiles and waves. He raises his eyebrows nervously.
The Weasley twins turn to look at each other, and communicate something in their silent twin language.
Angelina Johnson, sitting between them, elbows them both in the side.
Cho Chang gives him a watery smile. She’s been crying.
Susan Bones and Padma Patil don’t do much beyond acknowledging his presence, but he doesn’t think he’s ever spoken to either of them before.
“Cheers, Neville!” Lee Jordan flashes his blindingly white teeth and stands up to shake his hand. “Glad you could make it. Here, sit down!”
Neville nods in greeting, following Lee back to their makeshift circle where another comfy-looking armchair has just popped into place between him and Luna. The others talk amongst themselves for a moment as he gets settled.
“Right!” Lee leans forward in his seat and gestures to the group. “We’ve already gotten started, but seeing as it’s Neville’s first time, why don’t we go round and do some intros?”
“Yeah, clearly we’ve never met the man before,” George pipes up. “What was his name again?”
A few people laugh, including Neville.
“‘Course you can go first, George!” Lee says in response. “Thanks for volunteering!”
More people laugh.
“Tosser,” George shoots back without heat. “George, or you can call me Gay Fred.” Angelina snorts. “He/him, co-founder of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, proud poofter and family disappointment—”
“Though not the biggest,” Fred interrupts with a scowl.
“Not the biggest poofter or family disappointment?” Susan asks.
“Both,” Fred and George say in unison.
“…and yes lads, I’m single,” George continues. He winks and almost everyone laughs. “Though… you’re the only one who’s not my brother, Longbottom.”
“I knew we were related!” Lee exclaims.
“More or less,” Fred and George agree.
“He’s ace though, Neville, so don’t expect him to put out,” Angelina adds.
Neville’s face flames red at the implication, although he has no idea what “ace” means.
“Angelina, she/her, Quidditch captain and bi badass. Only looking to date ladies at the moment.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Fred quips.
Neville remembers Fred and Angelina dancing together at the Yule Ball last year, their movements so exuberant that most people kept a safe distance away. They looked like they were having a blast. He assumed they were perfect for each other.
“Hmm, maybe because…” Padma puts a hand to her chin, faking deep thought. “…men are rubbish.”
Angelina barks out a laugh, and Susan says “total rubbish.”
“That’s my cue, then? Fred, also known as Straight George.”
“Mostly straight,” Lee interjects. A couple more laughs. Neville didn’t think there’d be so much laughter.
“I’d challenge even the lesbians in the room to look at Blaise Zabini and say he isn’t fit,” Fred replies easily.
“Damn, he’s got a point,” Padma frowns. Neville hasn’t thought about it before, but he’d have to reluctantly agree.
“He/him. If you get me and George confused, just remember I’m the handsome one. And since I am mostly straight, during these meetings I keep my mouth shut. Just here for my friends.”
Angelina smiles warmly and Lee pretends to wipe a tear from his eye.
“Padma, she/her, one third of this group’s Raven-queers—” She makes eye contact with Cho and Luna with a grin. “And also the more attractive twin,” she nods to Fred, “but don’t you dare let Parvati hear you say so. Oh also, I’m gay.”
“Join the club,” George jokes, and it cracks everyone up.
After the laughs die down again, Cho wipes her nose. “Cho, she/her. I… maybe don’t belong here as much, because I’ve only ever liked boys.” A few people shake their heads in disagreement. “One who’s quite daft, and one who…” She bites her lip, more tears forming in her eyes. Padma takes Cho’s hand in both of her own while Susan rubs her back.
“I think Cedric would be glad you’re here,” Luna says softly. It’s the first time she’s spoken since Neville joined the circle. “And if you didn’t belong here, the Room wouldn’t let you in, would it?”
The others nod and murmur in assent. Cho smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Luna.”
Susan keeps her hand on Cho’s back while she speaks. “Call me Bones. They/them, please. Resident Hufflepuff and nonbinary bringer of biscuits.”
Angelina whoops, and the others take a minute to laugh a bit more and check on Cho.
Neville can’t make much sense of what’s just been said, other than wanting to be called “Bones.” Which is definitely cooler than “Longbottom,” so he can’t blame her.
“Them,” Luna says abruptly. She’s not looking at him, but on her other side George is making faces while Bones laughs and Angelina rolls her eyes.
“Sorry, what?” Neville asks.
“Bones is nonbinary, which means they’re not a boy or a girl,” Luna explains. “You might still want to call them ‘her,’ but that’s wrong. They go by ‘they’ or ‘them.’”
She turns to look at Neville, whose mouth is hanging open because how the bloody hell did Luna know he called Bones her in his own mind?
“So if I was talking about Bones,” Neville voices slowly, “I could say ‘they’re in Hufflepuff’?”
“That’s right,” Luna confirms with that soft smile.
Sounds easy enough, though Neville’s bound to muck it up a time or two.
“Let’s come back together, folks, few more left to go,” Lee says. The chatter dies down again, and Neville sees Fred conjure a small flower and hand it to Cho.
“I’m Lee, he/him, though if you asked someone who’s known me long enough they might say ‘Lee the He-She.’ Awfully clever rhyming, isn’t it?”
George scoffs while Fred says, “Rotten gits, the lot of them.”
“Transitioned before my third year. Wasn’t in the boys’ dormitory two weeks before Fred and George charmed my bed curtains shut—”
“We were trying to keep Jonathan Carmichael’s beady eyes off while you changed!”
“—pervy peeping Tom—”
“—peeping Jon, more like—”
“—shame he didn’t come back after Christmas—”
“—plenty of curses we wanted to practice—”
“Hem, hem.”
Neville’s eyes stop bouncing between the Weasleys and look around frantically for the source of that horrid sound.
“Pretty good, right?” Angelina says. A few people laugh while Neville gapes. She mimicked Umbridge’s awful throat-clearing perfectly. “It’s Lee’s turn right now.”
That shuts Fred and George up.
“Thanks, Ange. Fancy a—?”
“No.”
“Right! Quidditch commentator and President of this charming little group. You’re up, Nev!”
Neville sits back in his chair as all eyes focus on him again. It’s a bit disconcerting.
“Um.” Neville clears his throat. “Well, I’m Neville, but obviously you know that…”
He looks to Lee for guidance.
“Give us your pronouns, and if you’d like to say anything about why you’re here, feel free.”
“Pronouns…?” Neville repeats helplessly.
“Right!” Lee says again, still in a chipper tone. “So that’s what you’d like us to call you when we don’t use your name. Could be he/him, she/her, they/them, that sort of thing. Or a combination.”
“Oh.” Neville blushes. Of course, everyone else said theirs. “He/him, I think.”
Lee nods in encouragement.
“I’m here because…” He looks around. A few people have their gazes directed at the ground, maybe to put him more at ease. He wishes they’d all close their eyes. Looking at Cho is especially difficult, afraid that he’ll somehow reveal that they fancy the same person.
Luna takes his hand. “Nothing you say leaves this room. It’s safe.”
He squeezes her hand in thanks.
“I think I—I might be g-gay.”
Padma beams at him. George gives him a salute.
“Well done, Neville!” Lee enthuses. “Thanks for sharing. Wanna finish us off, Luna?”
She pats Neville’s hand before letting it go.
“Luna, she or they. In Muggle terms I suppose I’d be something called ‘pansexual,’ but I like ‘queer’ just fine.” Her eyes get wide. “‘Queer’ can also mean ‘strange,’ and people tend to find me strange.”
“Hear, hear,” Fred and George sing-song.
Bones snaps their fingers. Even Cho manages a laugh, fidgeting with Fred’s flower.
“Alright, with that business out of the way…” Lee crosses his legs. “Where did we leave off?”
*
“I’m thinking of chopping my hair off,” Bones says.
“Do it, mate,” Lee says.
“Are you worried how people will react?” Padma asks.
Bones shrugs. “Not at school, really. I can handle people calling me a boy or a dyke. It’s my mum that’ll go mental.”
The Weasleys nod in understanding.
“You could tell her someone did it to you,” Angelina suggests.
“And that it turned out rather sporting,” George adds.
Bones pauses to think. “Anybody willing to do it for me?”
*
“I think you look quite dashing,” Luna says after Lee has finished.
“Really suits you,” Cho agrees.
“And this is just an added bonus,” Fred says, rubbing Bones’ now buzzed scalp with a pleased grin.
“Oi, ask before you touch someone’s hair, Weasley!” Angelina slaps his hand away.
“As long as it’s you lot, I don’t mind,” Bones shrugs.
“Still. It’s the principle of the thing.”
*
“You’d think it’d be easy enough to remember, ‘Lee’ instead of ‘Leah’—and my mum and dad do their best to correct him, but when it’s all the time…”
“Yeah,” Bones murmurs.
“Alright, Neville?” George says.
Neville blinks. “Y-Yeah, was I—?”
“You were pulling a face,” Fred says.
“Oh, suppose I was—bit confused.”
“About me?” Lee asks.
Neville nods embarrassedly. “Sorry, I’m fine to just listen—”
“Do you mind?” George asks Lee.
“Be my guest.”
“Right,” says George. “It’s like this, Neville—Lee pops out his Mum, fresh little chunk of a baby—”
“Oi!”
“—and his mum and dad are thrilled, look at this screeching mess of a thing they made—”
“On with it!”
“—and the Healer takes one look at his bits and says, ‘that’s a girl, that is!’ and thinks nothing of it. But bits aren’t boy or girl bits—they’re just bits.”
Neville shifts in his seat, suddenly very conscious of his own “bits.”
“So they name the baby ‘Leah’—put it in dresses and grow its hair long and give it dolls to play with—”
“Which is a problem in and of itself, even if the child enjoyed those things,” Angelina cuts in.
“Especially because there’s infinitely more options than just ‘boy’ or ‘girl’,” Bones adds.
“—never once stopping to ask the little creature what they want. And as it turns out, the kid’s actually a boy and he wants to be called Lee,” George finishes.
Neville remembers having a baby doll named Cynthia when he was small. He liked to push her in her pram and give her bottles and pretend to change her nappy. He doesn’t remember when or why he stopped.
“I’d always felt like a boy,” Lee says softly. “But the summer after my second year, I started living as one. ‘Course that’s right about the time my body thought it’d be wicked fun to give me tits and bloody pants every month.”
Bones scrunches up their nose. Neville’s never talked about this sort of stuff with anyone. Not even the version that applies to him. Getting stiffies at all hours of the day doesn’t seem like a thing you talk about, even with your mates. Maybe they do, here. And maybe that’s not so bad.
*
“I’ve been thinking of coming out to my sister,” Padma admits.
“Do it, mate,” Lee says. “You know, if you want.”
“Speaking as one twin to another,” Fred offers, “I’d bet she already knows.”
Padma shakes her head. “I don’t know. We’re not as close as you and George. Being in different Houses limits how much time we spend together.”
“Even so,” George reasons, “She won’t love you any less for it. You could even blame our baby brother, say you’re well shot of men after last year.”
Angelina hums. “But by that logic, Harry would’ve put Parvati off boys too. He and Ron were both lousy dates.”
“I dunno, even a bad date with Harry sounds alright,” Cho muses. Neville flushes.
“You could ask Michael Corner what Ginny thinks,” Luna chimes in.
Neville worries at a thread dangling from his jumper sleeve. Mentioning Harry and Ginny in the same minute has his heart beating faster.
“How do you reckon?” Padma asks.
“Michael’s in the same House and year as you, so you see him frequently. He’s dating Ginny, who’s in the same House as Parvati and is good friends with Hermione, who’s in her year. Ginny also has a very good sense of who might be queer, and has exceptional instincts in general.”
There’s silence as everyone processes Luna’s train of thought.
“Always knew little sis had hidden talents. Didn’t I always say, George?”
“‘Ginny has hidden talents,’ you always said, Fred.”
“Though where were those ‘exceptional instincts’ when she pulled Michael Corner, eh?”
“Maybe she could tell at the Yule Ball that Neville was gay?” Lee throws out.
“A-Aren’t we supposed to be talking about Padma?” Neville deflects, concerned his face might set on fire.
“I’ll find some way to tell my sister,” says Padma, waving him off. “I’m actually more interested to see where this is going at the moment.”
“Neville, do you fancy Ginny?” Bones asks kindly.
Fred and George immediately turn to observe Neville’s answer.
“I-I—”
Neville looks around desperately for a distraction. All he sees are people he could call his friends, waiting patiently without any trace of judgment.
“I… I thought I did, but…” He swallows, wishing he had something to drink for his dry throat. “Lately there’s been… someone else.”
Cho tilts her head. “It's possible to have feelings for two people at once, you know,” she says gently. He can guess that she’s learned that firsthand.
“Yeah but—even if they’re from different… genders?”
Another pause.
“That’s… kind of the definition of bisexual,” Angelina tells him.
“Huh?”
“She’s saying it ain’t just birds or blokes, mate,” George says with a grin, like he wants to laugh. “Don’t have to choose one or the other.”
“So you may not be gay after all,” Luna points out. “You could be something else. There’s lots of options.”
Oh. There it is again, a totally new idea presented like it’s no big deal at all. But this one tilts Neville’s world on its side.
“Oh,” he says aloud.
*
“Harry asked me to the Ball last year, and I think he still likes me, but… I dunno if it’s… a good time.”
“We’re at war, Cho,” Fred says quietly. “Don’t think timing really comes into it.”
“Though what does come into it is that Harry’s a plonker.”
“George.”
“You know it’s true, Angelina! Can you imagine his reaction if I told him I like people but don’t want to shag them? Let alone hearing that from someone he’s smitten with.”
“Wait, Harry’s not smitten with you?”
“Piss off, Fred!”
“Oi, piss off, both of you!” Lee yells, his locks flapping against his face as he gestures.
Cho looks close to crying again. Neville’s feeling much the same—even though he knows Harry’s not the best at feelings or talking about them, he still feels like he ought to defend his friend.
“I’m afraid they might be right,” Cho says, eyes trained on the flower she twirls in her lap. “With C-Cedric I could… we had lots of conversations about it. Felt like I could tell him anything.” She dabs her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. “Harry doesn’t seem interested in talking about him. And if we can’t talk about him, how would we be able to talk about… us?”
Neville empathizes with her on that. If he were to ever entertain the idea of actually going out with someone, it’d have to be someone with whom he could talk about his parents. He’s tired of keeping them a secret.
(Though it’s not like anyone’s ever really asked.)
“I think that’s a fair point,” Padma tells Cho. “It’d be nice for Harry to learn about the asexuality spectrum, but it’s not your responsibility to educate him.”
George nods. “If I ever get round to having The Talk with ickle Ronniekins, I’ll make sure Harry hears it, too.”
Cho smiles sadly. “Probably better coming from you.”
“Wouldn’t it be grand if we had a Queer Studies professor?” Angelina says excitedly. “If first-years could hear about this stuff and be able to put a name to their experience? Sure would’ve saved me some time.”
Neville’s confident that if such a subject existed at Hogwarts, his interest in it would rival that of Herbology.
*
“Alright, that’s time, folks, unless you want Umbridge catching you out after curfew—”
“Is that why Colin isn’t here?” Padma asks. “Nicked him for something, did she?”
“No, nothing like that,” Lee assures them. “He’s helping Dennis with something.”
“Must be nice,” Fred sighs.
“A big brother who’d do anything for you,” George agrees, staring into the middle distance.
“Oh, come off it,” Lee says. “You’ve got each other. And now we’ve really got to get a move on.”
Neville watches Angelina whisper something to each of the twins, who then promptly stand up.
“How’re we feeling, Longbottom?” George asks cheerfully. Cho and Padma are the first pair to go, taking a quick peek into the hall before waving and scurrying off.
“I think—good, yeah,” Neville replies. It’s true—talking through things feels something like a Pepper-Up Potion for his mind.
“Wicked.” George nods at Fred and Angelina as they leave.
“Is it—?” Neville starts, then worries his question might be inappropriate.
“Time to go? Most certainly, but I couldn’t leave you all by your lonesome, could I?” He winks.
Neville ducks his head. “I meant… is it always like that? The meetings?”
“Fancy a biscuit before I take them?”
Bones holds out a tray of what look like gingersnaps. Luna nibbles at one next to them.
“Why not?” George says. He and Neville each grab a biscuit.
“Thanks, Bones,” Neville says before taking a bite.
They smile. “See you at another one, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Luna regards each Gryffindor with a curious look. Apparently satisfied, she says, “These really go best with milk,” and then follows Bones out into the hall.
George and Neville stop chewing for a moment to share a look and giggle.
“Alright lads, that’s everyone sorted,” Lee concludes, looking around as the last few chairs vanish. “Soon as you two have your heart-to-heart, it’s straight back to the common room with you.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Wait, shouldn’t you leave together?” Neville blurts out. “You’re friends—wouldn’t that be more convincing?”
Lee and George look at each other. George shrugs. “I don’t need to talk to Lee right now.”
“And I see enough of this one during the day,” Lee agrees with a laugh. He puts a hand on each of their shoulders. “See you.”
Neville and George say goodbye to Lee as he goes.
“To answer your question,” George says, finishing off his gingersnap, “that’s usually what they’re like, yeah.”
Neville chews thoughtfully.
“Look, figured you should know…” George scratches the back of his head. “Luna’s been trying to get Ginny to come.”
Neville tries not to act surprised. Ginny’s queer too? And George knows?
“But if it’ll make you uncomfortable…”
“N-No, I can—I don’t want to prevent her from—”
“—Gin’s being weird about it anyway, something about her going with Michael—”
“—I'm sure everyone would rather have her here, I don’t mind—”
“‘You don’t mind’?” George repeats fiercely. “I know I don’t know you that well, Longbottom, but I can tell you said some things today you’ve never told anyone before.”
Neville doesn’t know what to say to that.
“I was only gonna say I’d talk to Lee about splitting off into smaller groups—Ginny’d be better off if Fred and I weren’t around, and you could join up with us so you wouldn’t have to share your stuff with her.”
“Oh.”
“Blimey, Neville.” George shakes his head. “This obviously means something to you, and I’d be a royal prick if I let anyone get in the way of that. Even my baby sister.”
Neville tries to swallow past the thickness in his throat. Who knew George Weasley would look out for someone he barely knew, even before his own family? Or that he could take anything seriously?
“Th-Thanks,” he manages.
George breaks into a grin. “We gotta get you sticking up for yourself, mate.” He bumps Neville’s shoulder with his own. “Won’t always be around to do it for you, will I?”
The truth of that hits Neville like a full Body-Bind Curse. George won’t be at Hogwarts next year. Neither will Fred, nor Lee, nor Angelina. Half of the people he got to know a little better tonight.
“Oi, where’d you go?”
George taps him on the shoulder with a single finger, like Neville’s a hippogriff who might startle.
“Oh, j-just…” Neville feels like a pillock. He’d thought Harry was pants at talking about feelings… “The meetings’ll be a lot quieter, I reckon. After you’re gone.”
George makes a face like he’s thinking too hard before slinging an arm around Neville’s shoulders.
“You’ll have plenty to talk about next year, I promise you that.” He leads Neville towards the double doors, then lets his arm drop. “And there’s still lots of this year left to go.”
They poke their heads into the hallway. It’s completely deserted, so they start walking to Gryffindor Tower.
“Listen, Nev… I know Ron and Harry are remarkably dim round these sorts of subjects.” George mouths the word gay. “And as it happens, we’ve got an extra bed in our dorm, on account of Jonathan Carmichael’s mysterious disappearance third year. Never did work that one out, did they…”
Neville stifles a laugh before it escapes his throat.
“If you ever want to spend the night chatting with me and Lee about anything—‘course, Fred’ll be there too, but he knows the rules—you’ve got an open invitation. And with Ron’s snoring no one’ll think twice about it.”
Ron and Harry often stay up late talking in hushed tones. Dean and Seamus do too, but they aren’t as careful about lowering their voices. Neville’s wondered more than once whether he’d have someone to talk to if the dormitories housed six people.
“That’d be great,” Neville says earnestly.
“Excellent. Colin Creevey’s one of us too, sure he’d be happy to offer the same.”
George recites the password to the Fat Lady (“surge sursus—yes I know we’re skirting curfew so save it”) and Neville follows him into the common room.
There are a fair number of Gryffindors studying and talking to one another. In the corner by the fireplace, Ginny looks up from her book at the new arrivals. Her eyebrows pinch together for a few seconds. Then she blinks and the corner of her mouth twitches. Neville gives her his most convincing smile. Her brown eyes grow warmer in the firelight.
“Right… guess I’ll leave you and my only sister to it, then…”
“Wait—”
Neville grabs at his elbow because he’s totally got this wrong, but when George turns around, his eyes are dancing with mirth.
“Only joking, Longbottom,” he says, struggling to keep a straight face. “She’s cottoning on, though—looks like Luna was right.”
“Yeah… dunno why I’m surprised.” Neville watches Ginny’s hair cover her face like a fiery curtain as she returns her attention to her homework.
“Dunno why you are either,” George says with a smile; for one moment, he’s the spitting image of a proud big brother. “Ginny! Best get to bed before our favorite Prefect does his nightly rounds.”
“Ron never does that and it’s barely nine o’clock. Sod off.”
“Cheeky!” George gives Neville a light slap on the back, lowering his voice. “I’m knackered. You take it easy, alright? No need to sort it all out tonight.”
Neville opens his mouth to say “thank you,” but his companion has already started up the dormitory stairs.
No need to sort it all out tonight. Maybe not all… but Neville would at least like to start. He exhales, blowing blond hair out of his eyes. “Accio courage,” he murmurs, walking across the common room toward Ginny.