Work Text:
Neville recognised him right away, his unruly black hair unmistakable even from the further corner of the cafe.
Harry let his gaze roam around the room and Neville waved a hand, nodding in salute when Harry spotted him and walked towards the table.
Grinning, Neville stood up to clap on his shoulder. “Morning.”
“Hello, Nev,” Harry greeted him, taking a seat on the stool in front of him. “Ginny says hi too.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t expected her name to come up so soon (or at all, actually). “Well, er… thanks. So, does that mean you two…”
As Neville trailed off, Harry’s eyes went wide, a light blush spreading on his cheeks.
“Sorry,” said Neville hastily, cursing himself for making him uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t have asked, it’s none of my b–”
“No, it’s ok,” said Harry, raising a hand. “We, er... yeah... we’re good.”
Neville beamed. “That’s great. I knew you’d be.”
“Really?”
“Of course! She missed you a lot, at Hogwarts. Not that she ever admitted it out loud, obviously, but…” He shrugged. “We could tell.”
“Oh…” mumbled Harry, rubbing his scar absentmindedly. “That’s…”
He swallowed, clearly at a loss for words, and Neville felt a wave of affection for his friend.
“You really deserve it,” he said earnestly. “Both of you do.”
Harry’s lips were tugged into a coy smile. “Thanks, Nev. And… for what it’s worth… I’m sorry I –”
“Hello, guys. What can I get you?”
They both turned their heads towards the waitress, a very cute woman whose blonde plaits reminded Neville of Hannah’s.
“Er… coffee, for me,” said Harry. “And a treacle tart. Thanks.”
The waitress beamed at him. “You’re welcome.”
She seemed quite taken by Harry’s striking green eyes, noticed Neville with amusement. He had to clear his throat to get her attention, biting back a smile when the girl jolted in surprise, blushing.
“And for you?” she asked, her voice a bit higher than before.
“A slice of Victoria sponge and a cup of tea, please.”
“Perfect, I’ll be right back. Call me if you’d like to order anything else, I’ll leave you the menus.”
Neville didn’t miss the soft smile she gave to Harry before walking away.
“She’d be really upset to know you’re already taken,” he teased when she was out of earshot.
Harry blinked at him, bemused. “You mean the waitress?”
Neville tried not to laugh. “Who else? And to think she doesn’t even know you’ve just saved the world!”
“She was just being nice,” mumbled Harry, suddenly very interested in the menu.
“Yeah, you tell Ginny that,” said Neville with glee. “Merlin’s beard, witches from all over the planet are going to be desperate when they hear the news.”
Harry looked up, his expression sheepish. “Er, about that… we, erm…well, we’d prefer to keep it quiet, this time. You know, at least until things are a bit more settled.”
“Oh. Sure.” Neville privately suspected that that had a lot to do with Harry and much less to do with Ginny, but he certainly wasn’t going to address that. “I understand.”
“I mean, her family knows, and it’s not like we’re keeping it a secret, so I’m not asking you to lie for us or anything like that, but…”
Neville smirked. “But no more kisses in the middle of the common room.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.” Harry had spoken in a deadpan tone, but he was smiling. “Just… don’t shout it around, will you?”
“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. I was only planning to tell Rita Skeeter,” he assured him, thoroughly enjoying himself.
Harry, on the other hand, looked at him with a grave expression. “I mean it, Nev. Not even around the office.”
When Neville realised the implication of those words, his amusement faded away. “You think we can’t trust the others?”
“Most of them stayed there, did they?” Harry shrugged, resigned. “How can we know if they were sabotaging the Ministry from the inside, playing along, or right down helping them?”
Neville sighed. “We can’t,” he conceded. “But…”
He fell silent when he spotted the waitress coming back, and a moment later she arrived with a loaded tray balanced on one hand.
“Here we are,” she said, looking pointedly at Neville. “The Victoria sponge and the tea were for you, right?”
When he nodded, she took his order from the tray and laid it carefully on the table. Only then she finally locked her blue eyes with Harry’s, a dazzling smile brightening her beautiful face.
“So, the treacle tart and the coffee must be for you.”
Harry swallowed, awkwardly flattening his hair. “Er, yeah. Thanks.”
“Wonderful. Please, call me if you need anything else.”
Neville added milk to his tea and stirred it, forcing himself to stay impassive, but as soon as the waitress was far enough, he grinned at Harry, who rolled his eyes in response.
“She’s just being nice, eh?”
“Shut up,” muttered Harry, grabbing a sugar cube and throwing it at him.
Neville barked a laugh. “Tell me, how many marriage proposals have you received so far?”
Harry narrowed his eyes, looking unexpectedly pensieve with his coffee hanging in mid air. “None, actually,” he admitted, his tone perplexed.
Neville shot him an amused glance. “Aren’t you a bit young for that, anyway?”
Harry rolled his eyes again, but his lips twitched. “I was just wondering if someone at the Ministry is checking my mail or, well, intercepting it.” He took a sip of coffee. “I haven’t got a letter since forever.”
“Oh.” Neville thought of the bunch of letters he had received from his parents’ old friends to congratulate him. A couple of them were still in the Aurors, and that made him realise he ought to resume the conversation that the arrival of their order had interrupted. “That’s… weird, I guess.”
Harry sighed. “I’ll ask Kingsley to have a look into it. Who knows, maybe it was something organised by the Order so the Ministry wouldn’t find me.”
“Yeah, maybe,” said Neville, who felt like they had more pressing topics to discuss. He blew on his tea and took a long sip. “Look, about what you were saying before… My gran mentioned a couple of Aurors that were friends with my parents, so I’d like to think we can trust them.” He tried not to take Harry’s mildly skeptical expression too personally. “And about the rest… I know it’s no excuse, but lots of people in the Ministry had kids or nephews or even grandkids at Hogwarts, and… believe me, that means they weren’t exactly in the position to oppose the Ministry.”
Harry sent him an odd glance, and Neville wondered if he was thinking about Ginny’s dad as well. He waited in silence and took another sip of tea, suspecting Harry needed a bit of time to sort out his thoughts.
“Earlier, when you said that… that Ginny missed me… I was meaning to say... just, you know…” He took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on his coffee. “I’m very sorry I wasn’t there.”
Neville lowered his mug, staring at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m not.” Harry had spoken firmly, and for a moment he looked again like he was carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders. “What you went through… It must have been awful.”
“It was,” said Neville matter-of-factly. From the way Harry raised his eyebrows, he could tell he was taken aback. “One more reason for you not to be there, the way I see it. And in all honesty, I think we were better off without you.” He grinned. “Troubles always seem to follow you.”
Harry chuckled, and Neville felt quite pleased for cheering him up.
“And yet you want to work with me,” said Harry with a lighter tone, his lips curved upwards. “Doesn’t seem so wise, does it?”
“Not at all,” said Neville, still grinning. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Harry huffed with humour. “Suit yourself, then, but don’t hold it against me if you’ll end up with a weird scar on your forehead.”
“’Course I will,” he said cheerfully. “It’s clearly your fault if I’ve been asked to join.”
Harry raised his mug towards him in mock salute, smiling. “You’re welcome.”
Neville mirrored him, clinking their mugs together.
“I mean it, though,” he pressed after sipping his tea, more serious. “I wouldn’t be here, if it weren’t for you. You know that, right?”
Harry’s stunned expression was answer enough. “I…” He swallowed. “You would have done that too. Lots of people would have.”
Neville shook his head. “I wasn’t speaking about that,” he said gently, and Harry seemed even more puzzled. “I meant the D.A.”
“The D.A.?”
“You see, I never thought I had it in me to be an Auror… to follow my parents’ steps. It seemed like an impossible dream, one I barely allowed myself to dwell on... and then you started the D.A.”
“It wasn’t me,” said Harry decisively. “It was all Hermione’s idea, she was the one who –”
“It was you who taught us, though.” Neville looked at him into the eyes, his chin held up. “And look at us now.”
Harry lowered his gaze to his plate and began cutting the slice of treacle tart in little pieces. “I made all of you believe that… that everybody had to fight, that it’d be cowardly not to do it, that…”
Neville felt a surge of deep compassion for his old friend and his unfair, aching guilt. “You gave us hope,” he said fiercely. “You made us survive.”
“Not all of you,” Harry murmured, so low that Neville almost didn’t catch it. His head was still bent, but Neville noticed his hard blinking nonetheless, and he felt a heavy knot clenching around his heart.
“Colin wasn’t your fault, Harry. If anything, I was the one to call him back. To call everybody back.”
“Only because I was there.”
Neville sighed. He felt like he was fighting a lost cause, but he owed Harry that much. “I promise you this year would have been even worse, without the D.A.”
“At least people would have stayed out of trouble,” muttered Harry, twirling his mug between his hands.
“Would they really, though? Because I clearly remember you saying you couldn’t have done it without all of us, after the battle. Bit pointless to stay out of trouble if you-know — sorry, if Voldemort would have won.”
Harry opened and closed his mouth. “I…”
“I know it’s hard on you,” said Neville. “But… I guess I like to believe that most of us would have stayed and fought anyway, even if the D.A. had never existed.”
Harry didn’t look so persuaded, and Neville decided there was only one way to pull him out of his own head.
“You know, it’s a bit rude of you to think we wouldn’t have,” he said provocatively.
As predicted, Harry’s head immediately jerked up: he looked half horrified, half mortified. “I… I didn’t mean… That’s not what I… I’d never… I’m just...” He took a deep breath, rubbing his scar again. “I’m not undermining what you did, Nev. That’s… the last thing I want, actually. I promise.”
“Yeah,” nodded Neville. “I know.”
“I meant what I said the other day. I’ll make sure people hear about you all.”
“I know you will.”
“I’m just…” He shrugged, letting out a breath. “I guess what I wanted to say is, I’m sorry I dragged you in all that.”
“Funny,” said Neville, “because I’m glad you did.”
Harry looked at him in disbelief. “Don’t say that,” he admonished, his voice sharp.
Neville ignored him. “I’m glad I could fight beside you. I’m glad I could help. I’m glad you asked me to kill the snake, even if -”
“You shouldn’t be!” said Harry, frustration blatant in his voice. “Can’t you see it? You shouldn’t have had to endure all this!”
“You shouldn’t have either.”
“I didn’t have a choice, did I?” bit back Harry.
“I know,” said Neville, placatingly. “And I’m sorry.”
Harry seemed taken aback by those words, and Neville wondered if he’d been the first person to tell him that. “But… even when I had the chance, I don’t think I could have chosen anything different either, you know? And if I’ve been able to outlive the consequences of that choice, it’s only thanks to your lessons. It’s only thanks to you.” He thought of the Chocolate Card tucked in the front pocket of his shirt, alongside the D.A. coin and the Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum wrapping his gran had sent him with her pride. “You’re the first person that really believed in me. The first to think I was worth something.” He thought of those meaningful words heard years before, words he’d never forgotten… words he’d never forget. You’re worth twelve of him.
“Blimey, Neville,” said Harry in a hoarse voice. With his eyes shut and his fingers pushing up the glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, he looked at the same time incredibly young and years older than he was. It was odd to think they were born just one day apart.
“You know,” said Neville with a conversational tone, trying to spare Harry the embarrassment of acknowledging his words properly, “when we talked with Kingsley I realised that the only time I’ve been in the Ministry before then, was the day I went with you.”
“Oh. Right.”
Harry didn’t seem as relieved as he had hoped. A moment later, Neville realised with horror why: that was the day Sirius Black had died.
Unable to stand that awkward silence, Neville started rambling. “That… that was the first moment I thought ‘Hey, maybe I have what it takes to be an Auror, after all’; then of course my marks weren’t good enough, but… it was nice, to feel like… like I could have been.”
“You can be, Neville. You are.”
He chuckled lightly. “Yeah… I guess I am. Life is weird, eh?”
“It is,” agreed Harry. He checked his watch, and Neville threw him a questioning glance.
“We’ve still got twenty minutes before we have to go,” Harry reassured him, taking a sip of coffee.
“What about you, then?” asked Neville. “Have you always known you wanted to be an Auror?”
Harry looked pensieve for a moment. “Remember when you said life is weird?”
Neville put down his mug, nodding.
“Well… I didn’t even know that Aurors existed, until Moody. He’s the first Auror I’ve heard of, and he – the fake one, I mean – was the first to tell me that I’d –” He frowned. “Are you okay, Nev?”
Only then Neville realised he was holding his breath, his jaw clenched. He exhaled, relaxing the hand he had clamped around the mug handle. “Yeah,” he murmured, taking a bite of cake to buy some time. He chewed in silence, his blood pulsing in his ears, his mind going back to the awful day McGonagall had told him who had taken Professor Moody’s place.
“Shit,” blurted Harry. He was looking at him with wide eyes, comprehension written on his features. “I’m sorry, Neville, I shouldn’t have mentioned him. I’m an idiot.”
“It’s okay. I forgot about your godfather, did I?”
“Oh. Well, that’s not...”
Neville offered him a sheepish smile. “What if we call it even and leave it at that?”
“Sure,” said Harry hastily, shoving a piece of treacle tart in his mouth.
Neville took his lead and busied himself with his Victoria sponge, but he couldn’t stop dwelling about what Harry had said. To think that Barty Crouch had somehow inspired both of them was unsettling, but it was also oddly comforting to know he hadn’t been the only one to be fooled.
“He was also the first to acknowledge I was good in Herbology,” admitted Neville in a low voice. Against his expectations, Harry didn’t look so surprised.
“You already knew?”
Harry nodded, his face grim. “That book about aquatic plants... He gave it to you because he thought I’d ask for your help for the Second Task.”
Neville stared at him, his stomach squirming unpleasantly. He had never felt as used as he was feeling now, but in a way it was almost a relief to know that Crouch hadn’t taken him under his wing just for mere sadism.
Harry swallowed, looking anywhere but at him. “I’m very sorry I didn’t ask for your help, back then. It was very stupid of me.”
And of course Harry had to blame himself for that too.
Neville smiled kindly. “It’s water under the bridge, now. You made it up for it plenty enough.”
Harry didn’t look too convinced, but he gave him a weak nod. “Can I ask you something?”
“’Course.”
“You said Crouch was the first to recognise your talent in Herbology, but… what about Sprout?”
“Oh, well… I reckon she had always been pleased with my work, yeah, but I don’t think I ever thought I was good enough to make a career of it, before… before Crouch said he believed I could.”
Harry narrowed his eyes, looking perplexed and surprised at the same time. “I thought you wanted to be an Auror.”
“I didn’t really believe I could, back then, did I? But now things are different, now I know I can actually give a hand, and since Kingsley is asking for all the help he can get…”
It was weird to say out loud what he had kept repeating to himself for the past few days. He believed all of that, truly, but a part of him secretly wondered if the real reasons he was doing it was a different one.
I’m very proud of you, Neville. Your parents will be too.
“What did they do?” he blurted out.
Harry blinked at him, confused, and Neville felt his neck grew hot.
“Er… your parents, I meant.” He cleared his throat. “What did they do for a living?”
Harry was startled, his green eyes wide behind the round lenses.
“It’s ok if you don’t want to talk about it,” Neville hurried to add, fearing he had overstepped.
Harry slowly lowered his fork. “I… I don’t really know, to be honest.”
Neville really hadn’t see that coming. It felt like a punch in his gut.
“I think they… they just joined the Order, after Hogwarts. I guess… I guess they thought they could start working after Voldemort had fallen...”
After that awkward confession, they stayed silent for a bit, eating their food and dwelling on their parents’ cruel destiny.
For once, it was Harry to break the ice.
“My mum was a good potioneer,” he said out of the blue. “Slughorn was very fond of her. I… I like to imagine she’d have been a good teacher, I think.”
Neville almost joked that she would have surely been better than Snape, but he remembered just in time that Harry had gotten a bit protective of their old professor.
“I’m sure she’d have been,” he said instead, smiling. “I bet you took it from her, you were great in the D.A.”
“Oh… thanks, Nev.”
“Have you ever considered becoming D.A.D.A. professor, one day?”
“Nah, I reckon I’ve already taken too many risks in my life. I much prefer the Aurors survival rates.”
Neville chortled, humored. “If there’s one person that can survive teaching that class, that’s got to be you, Harry.” He smirked. “Imagine how famous you’d become if you could last more than one year.”
Harry huffed, shaking his head in amusement, then he seemed to realise something, because he frowned, pensieve. “You know what, I actually think things might be different from now on. It was Voldemort who cursed it. He wanted it for himself, but Dumbledore refused.”
Neville froze in the act of biting a piece of cake. “He wanted to teach?”
Harry nodded, his expression dark. “Insane, eh?”
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised, after sitting through Carrow’s lessons,” said Neville grimly.
Harry sighed. “I guess not.” He checked his watch again. “Time to leave, I reckon.”
They both stood up, and Neville insisted on paying, knowing Harry was still sorting things out with Gringotts (and with the blonde waitress). “Help me with this sodding paper money, though. I’ve no idea how Muggles manage not to rip them up.”
Afterward, they headed out of the cafe, walking towards the Ministry.
“For what it’s worth,” said Harry, “I reckon you’d be a great teacher too.”
“Me?”
“Of course.” Harry looked nonplussed. “Kids would love you. But…” He took a deep breath. “I’m truly glad we’re in this together.”
Neville felt really touched by his words. Ignoring the lump in his throat, he gave him a proud nod. “I’ll watch your back, Harry.”
“I know,” he said, and Neville would have sworn Harry was a bit touched as well.
“Let’s hope there’ll be no need, anyway.”
“Yeah… I’m sorry I worried you with my paranoia, but Ron isn’t here, and…”
“I’m not worried,” said Neville earnestly. “I’m with you.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot upwards. “I…” He swallowed, at a loss for words yet again, and Neville waited patiently.
“Thank you,” said Harry eventually, his voice raspy. “For... everything.”
Neville nodded, and after a couple of steps a cheery thought struck him. He bit back a smile. “You know who we won’t have to worry about?”
“Who?”
“Dawlish,” he said with a smirk. “He’s still at St. Mungo’s. My gran can’t stop bragging about it.”
Harry laughed out loud, and they walked forward with matching grins, a new beginning waiting ahead.