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Neville should have been used to the chaos of the Burrow by now having been there countless times but it was like every time he joined Sunday dinner, there was always more mayhem to witness, be a part of. Today it wasn’t even Fred or George up to their usual shenanigans. It wasn’t even Ginny either, something he’d gotten used to and was sometimes even roped into himself. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t bring himself to say no to her.
No, today it was Arthur. The patriarch of the family. He’d recently discovered toasters and was in the middle of his third demonstration on how to use one. Neville understood, he really did. Magic aside, how difficult could it possibly be to press one small button?
But he didn’t want to be rude.
“That’s quite extraordinary, Mr. Weasley,” he said politely, his eyes darting around the room searching for Ginny.
Arthur chuckled, a sound that revealed just how entertained and pleased he was with this new discovery.
He clapped his hands. “Let’s do it once more!”
“Oh,” Molly tsk’d as she rushed by. “You’re not still stuck on this are you? We’ve got enough bread for tonight’s meal!”
Neville smiled, his eyes finally landing on Ginny who appeared to be in the middle of a heated conversation with Ronald. Even from across the room, he could see that her cheeks were flushed red, the way they tended to be when she felt passionately about something. Wisps of coppery-red hair were flying in all sorts of directions like her hair was trying to come alive and attack Ronald, like the strands were just as angry as Ginny was.
Neville smiled.
It was nothing new. If anything, it was comforting.
It was tradition to meet together on Sundays and have dinner. Neville couldn’t quite remember how he became part of the tradition but he no longer questioned it, not when it meant spending more time with Ginny.
Everyone was there and dinner was just almost ready. In an hour or so, they’d take their usual seats at the table and enjoy another delicious hearty meal Molly had cooked. The aroma of roast beef and potatoes was already in the air and Neville’s stomach was already starting to grumble.
Just as Arthur began to demo how to use the toaster for the third - or Merlin, was it the fourth - time, a flash of green light caught Neville’s eye.
Hermione stepped through the floo, smoothing down her hair. She coughed lightly, brushing away the soot with one hand, the other busy holding a device. Neville squinted. It looked similar to that Muggle camera Colin Creevey had many years ago. Except it was larger, much larger.
“Hello, everyone!” Hermione said cheerfully.
“Oh!” Arthur said excitedly. “Hermione, you’ll not believe what I’ve found.”
He paused the demo to look up and Neville thanked the stars.
“What’s that you’ve got?” Ron said curiously, walking through the room.
“It’s a camera!” Hermione explained. “A polaroid!”
“A polar who?” Ron repeated.
Hermione sighed. “A polar-oid, Ronald. A camera. Something that takes photos.”
Ron scowled.
“I know what a bloody camera is, ‘Mione,” he said, his face twisting into a pout. “Why’s it so big?”
“This one’s special. You don’t need to get the photos developed.” Hermione explained. “They just come out!”
Almost as if compelled to move to the strange device, everyone crowded around Hermione, including Neville. He assessed his surroundings, calculating it so he could stand next to Ginny as Hermione pointed at one thing then another then another, explaining how the camera worked.
“It’s simple!” She said, lifting the camera to her eyes and quickly snapping a photo.
Neville blinked before his brain could even fully process what had just happened.
“You see,” Hermione said, pointing to a small square photo that was appearing from a tiny slit in the device. “Now, people usually try to get the photo to develop faster by shaking it but you aren’t supposed to do that.”
“What are you supposed to do?” Arthur asked curiously.
“Wait.”
And so everyone did, practically holding their breaths. It didn’t take too long before the photo was clear.
Hermione held it up for everyone to see. A quick glimpse at it revealed the puzzled look on all of their faces that she had just captured. Everyone, besides Harry, was gaping at Hermione in the photo.
“Why aren’t we moving?” Molly asked.
“Muggle photos don’t move,” Hermione lifted her chin. “They just capture a moment in time.”
“So…” Ron said. “We’re always going to be frozen like that?”
Hermione nodded. “Isn’t it brilliant?! Do you want to try?”
For a moment, nobody answered but then, almost as if all at once, everyone clamored toward Hermione, reaching for the camera.
“Give it to me! I want to catch Ron stuffing his face with Mum’s pie,” George grinned.
“Oi!” Ron glared at his brothers.
“Ronald!” Molly scolded.
“I wasn’t doing anything!”
Hermione laughed and handed the camera over to Arthur, demonstrating how to use it. It was definitely more interesting than the toaster, Neville had to give it that much.
“Alright, then you press this button,” Hermione said to Arthur, turning toward Fred and George. “Okay, you two! Say cheese!”
“Cheese?” Everyone, including Neville, looked at Hermione like she had gone mad. The only person that still seemed completely unamused by the entire interaction was Harry.
She sighed.
“It’s just a saying. It just means smile!”
“Alright,” Fred grinned. “Come on, George. Cheese!”
Arthur quickly snapped the photo and within a few minutes, another photo slid out of the small slot.
“Not bad,” George smiled as Arthur handed it over.
“Hmm,” Molly mused, watching the interaction. “I’ll keep those for the family album.”
Arthur lifted the camera again and quickly snapped a photo of Molly.
“Oh!” She protested, lifting her hand to her face in protest. “You!”
Arthur merely chuckled, holding up the photo once it developed.
“You look beautiful, Mollykins,” he said, handing over the photo.
And so on it went, the camera moving through everyone’s hands, a source of entertainment before dinner. Neville couldn't keep track of how many people’s hands passed it through or how many photos had been taken, how many photos he was in before Hermione stopped in front of him again, camera in hand.
“Alright,” she said. “One last photo before dinner! Say cheese!”
Before he could even blink, Ginny leaned forward and grabbed him, her arms around his neck, their faces pressed together. Neville smiled instinctively.
“Cheese!” Ginny said, a smile on her face.
Neville didn’t even get the sound CH out before the camera flashed, spitting out an image. Hermione held it up, handing it over to Ginny.
“Oh!” Ginny exclaimed. “Look, Neville! We look so cute!”
She turned toward Neville and grinned and for a moment, Neville was so distracted he forgot that there was something else he needed to be looking at. He blinked, glancing away from Ginny, down at the photo.
It was a cute photo, a great one, the two of them smiling, close together. He loved it, almost as much as he loved Gin.
But he was completely paralyzed because Hermione’s words were suddenly coming back to him.
Merlin, he realized. If he didn’t confess his feelings for Ginny now, their relationship was always going to remain frozen like the photo that had just been taken.
He couldn’t have that. The thought of it felt like a knife that kept twisting and twisting and twisting in his chest.
No. He had to say something. Now.
He could do it.
He could be brave.
It was just Gin.
Just Gin.
Only the absolute love of his life.
Alright.
Alright.
He could do this.
He was a fucking Gryffindor. He had slain Nagini. This would be a small feat in comparison. But then why did his heart suddenly feel stuck in his throat?
He glanced down at the photo again.
No!
He had to!
“Gin,” he said, his voice suddenly a little hoarse like he hadn’t spoken in months. “Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you.”
Ginny turned toward him, a frown on her face. “Are you alright, Neville? You’re looking… Well, almost as green as Trevor.”
He felt as green as Trevor, that is if you could feel like a color -- which, he reckoned, you probably could. He felt an amalgamation of green and red around Ginny all the time.
“Alright!” Molly called. “Everyone, time to eat!”
Everyone in the room began to move toward the kitchen, moving past them excitedly, nearly trampling them. Neville didn’t blame them, Molly's cooking really was that good.
“No. I mean, yes,” he said, taking Ginny’s wrist to stop her. “Just really quickly. I’ve been meaning to tell you something?”
It came out more as a question than a statement.
“What is it, Nev?” Ginny asked.
Merlin, she looked so sweet and kind and pretty, he thought he might faint, like he had in the Greenhouse all those years ago.
“Neville?”
“I like you,” he blurted out, heat crawling to the tip of his ears.
“Okay…” Ginny said, a confused look on her face. “That’s the thing you had to tell me?”
He nodded.
“You’re so silly. I like you too, Neville,”
She said it like it was the most casual thing in the world, like it was simple and easy, like … like maybe she didn’t understand what he was saying?
“No,” he tried again. “I meant really really like you.”
Ginny raised her brows. “I really like you too.”
Neville sighed. How much clearer did he have to be? Was saying Ginny Weasley, you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you and I never wish to be parted from you from this day on, too much too fast too soon?
Probably. Especially from someone who, just moments ago, was quaking at the thought of simply saying the words “I like you.”
Neville cleared his throat, stood up straighter, ready to confess when George appeared. Neville hadn’t been paying enough attention to realize he was still in the room with them.
Crap. He’d have to tell Ginny later, without an audience, or at least without an audience he was aware of.
George patted him on the shoulder as he slid by.
“Come on, mate. You can do it.”
Ginny looked at her brother in confusion then back toward Neville.
“What’s that about?”
He remained frozen, not sure what to say, how to respond. Any second now, Molly would shout again for them to come to the dinner table and he’d lose his chance. He blinked quickly, remembering the fear he’d felt the instant he realized their relationship would stay stagnant.
It prompted him to take action.
He had to do it now. Now or never. Seize the moment!
“Neville, what -”
He didn’t even think. He couldn’t. If he thought any more, he’d think himself to death right then and there. He just reached forward and grasped Ginny’s chin, tilting it up as he bent down.
He heard more than felt Ginny’s surprised gasp, her mouth parting for him, but she didn’t pull back or slap him like he’d worried. She didn’t even poke her wand to his throat and threaten to hex him. No. She did something worse.
She responded.
Which wasn’t a bad thing, not really.
Except, he hadn’t planned this far and now he didn’t know what to do.
So he did what felt the most natural. He just kept kissing her.
“I meant,” he whispered when he finally pulled away. “I like you like that.”
Ginny laughed. She laughed and her whole face lit up. “I knew what you meant, silly. I like you too.”
“You do?” He blinked.
She nodded.
“I can show you exactly how much later if you want to sneak into my old room after dinner,” she winked, walking away toward where Molly was calling them.
Oh, fuck.
Yes.
He was absolutely going to sneak Ginny into her old room later.
He smiled, ready to turn toward the kitchen when he realized he was clutching the photo in his hand. He glanced down at it, smiling, his heart happier than it had felt in years.
They really did look cute together.
