Adult Content Warning
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Summary
It’s not love, Neville tells himself.
He’s just worried about Harry. Admiring him. Helping him survive dragons and drowning and whatever the hell the Tournament throws at him next.
But Luna sees the way he stares. And Harry? Harry just smiles like nothing’s burning, like he’s not unraveling at the seams.
Neville can’t stop watching. Can’t stop caring. Can’t stop the tight, aching feeling in his chest every time Harry laughs or falls asleep beside him or says his name like it means something.
It’s not love.
It might be closer to despair.