Chapter Text
They won the battle. They won the war. Neville was sitting in the Great Hall next to Luna, staring at the wall, smiling. He just couldn’t believe that it was all over. That he wasn’t just some loser. He wasn't Neville. The Neville.
“It was you, you know…” Luna’s words awakened him from his thoughts, “You inspired them all.”
Neville took a look at her, “H-how?”
“Well, they all surrendered, there, in the yard, remember? It was your speech that brought them hope. You saved us all, Neville Longbottom”
“I… um… I just…” Neville couldn’t just get it, “Y-You say it like I intended or… or planned it all, but I-I just thought that… that I needed to do that, that's all… Same with that bloody snake. I mean, I couldn’t let Ron and Hermione die…”
“There’s no goodness in doing things if you plan them, Neville. Everything happens for a reason, even if we don't understand it at the time.” Luna gave him a sweet smile and got captivated by thoughts of how beautiful the Great Hall looked in ruins. It all amused her very much. The long tables at which they had eaten all these years. The empty seat of the headmaster. The students and professors healing their wounds. The broken windows through which the wind blew, quietly hummed in the background, sometimes drowning out the quiet conversations of those inside.
Neville, on the other hand, didn’t look amused at all. It was breaking his heart, how many they had lost in one day. He was sitting there thinking of Ron’s crying over Fred’s body. He just remembered it all, all the pain, all the tears, that scream and Ron falling onto his knees, that overwhelming grief, that Neville also shared. He wasn’t a big friend of the twins, but it all felt so confusing, and made him so angry, he was wondering how something like this could even ever happen… And Tonks… When he gave that speech… he meant it. That wasn’t some way to encourage them all, to make them fight for those that they lost, he was ready to fight on his own if that was necessary. And he did… He ran at Voldemort with a sword alone…
Someone patted him on the shoulder. He was practically dreaming of how tired he was. Neville looked at the person. It was Seamus standing in front of him.
“Hey, mate,” he softly patted him again, “Hey, we did it,” he was standing before Neville smiling broadly
“Y-Yeah…” answered Neville, still consumed by the memories.
“Wanna walk around the castle? Aberforth said that we should check out the ruins, in case someone got stuck, you know… ” Proposed Seamus
“Yeah, yeah, why not…” Neville hesitated and stood up incongruously
“Lead the way then…”
They walked out of the Great Hall and looked around. The staircases were practically ruined. Where the passageway was not littered with rubble walls, a couple of steps were missing, making it very difficult to get through. The vaults of the castle were partially destroyed. The floor was covered with shards of glass from lamps and copper shavings from half-destroyed statues. As they made their way to the staircases, they found that almost all the portraits from the walls had fallen. The fragments of frames and blank canvases had piled up in places, and lay there quietly, sprinkled with dust. Turning left, they walked down a long corridor.
"It used to be benched here," Neville said, pointing to the piles of stones along the walls.
Walking down the hallway in front of the stairs by the Gryffindor living room they found an iron frame in a small puddle of wax. The hook was still hanging from the remnants of the ceiling, and the grand chandelier in the hall had now become an unsightly, crooked pile of scrap metal. The next staircase was an even bigger adventure. After climbing halfway up the spiral staircase, they were faced with a terrifying view of the ruins outside. The sight of the partially destroyed greenhouses horrified Neville. He had always imagined the place as something homely and cosy. Seeing it like this was unbearable. The wind rumbled through the broken windows as they were climbing stairs.
Finally walking down another long corridor they were greeted by a portrait of the Fat Lady.
“Caput Draconis,” Seamus muttered and the door opened quietly. As they walked through another passageway the scene opened up.
The Gryffindor Common Room looked so different. The whole place was upside down. Feathers, broken cups and plates, small utensils, and whatever was once lying around inadvertently fell out of the wreckage of small cupboards. The carpets were crumpled, apparently by students in a hurry, and the Gryffindor crest, once neatly embroidered and hung on the wall, now looked more like a cheap rag. The velvet backing was blackened, the gold thread more like tinsel. Chairs were toppled over, a lamp was broken, and someone's red-and-gold scarf lay crumpled in the corner.
They went upstairs. The Gryffindor Dormitory was empty too. Some windows also got broken. The dust covered the tables and got into forgotten cups with tea. It was slowly getting darker. Paintings got empty too, no portraits, no anything. Even when Filch was taking them off by Umbridge’s orders, it didn’t feel so blank.
Seamus walked around the room, “Well, we cannot sleep here, there’s only one proper bed now. Ron used to sleep on this one until he moved there…” he pointed to a hole in the wall and smiled.
The phrase woke up Neville from his sleepy state and he looked around. The place got significantly colder from the times before – no one lit the fireplace.
“Eh, sorry, Seamus, I got, I got a lot of second thoughts, yeah…” Neville muttered and looked around, "Look, I don't know about you, but I'm awfully tired, if you don't mind, I'm going to lie down on that one and you can make yourself something… where you could rest, you know..."
"What, are you suggesting I sleep on a frozen floor?" resented Seamus with a smile on his face, "I could make something with this bed, innit better for both of us to suffer, eh?" He grinned.
“Better go and light the fireplace,” smiled Neville while trying to make the bedding. By the time he had finished, Seamus had already returned. "There's a hole in the chimney, so I'm not sure that helps at all... Are you even sure you want to sleep right here?"
“Look, Seamus, you can sleep anywhere, you know…” replied Neville in a tired voice, who was already sitting on the bed, "I'm not getting out of here, really, and if I would, I don't intend to sleep right in the hallway.”
“Yeah… And what are we gonna make about the bed?” glanced in his direction Seamus, “You've got yourself a nice little place here, mate.”
“Well, we cannot sleep together, can we…”
Seamus interrupted him with a chuckle, "Why so?"
“Eh... Well, you know, what if someone else would come in…”
“Well, I believe, I’m your friend, Nev, amn’t I?”
Although Neville tried to find an excuse not to get into a debate with Seamus, he had neither the energy nor the will to argue.
“Alright… Sure… If we could even fit together…”
Despite its rather large size, the bed was just right for the two of them. They were grown up and had long since passed the age when the bed felt like a huge white cloud. They both lay on their sides, back to back, and covered themselves. Neville was slightly uncomfortable sharing the bed with his friend, but he couldn't kick him out any more, could he? He fell asleep first.
Seamus wasn't that tired. Hearing his friend humming in his sleep, something that sounded like a lullaby, made his heart melt slightly. Despite his heroic appearance, his face covered in dried blood and scars, and all the things he had done today, he was still the same Neville. Seamus missed his normal quiet life so much. He wanted to go home. And lying here, next to Neville, felt so at home. He rolled onto his other side. Neville was still wearing the same grey jumper. Covered in sand, blood, and sweat. And he kept humming a lullaby. His soothing, relaxing voice, his warm breath, his smell... he smelled so... amazing... like a field of flowers. He always conjured up the light scent of some daisies. Seamus put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't react.
"Must have fallen asleep by now," thought Seamus and snuggled closer, hugging him, his warm body was far better than any fireplace. Seamus snuggled into the soft wool jumper, inhaling Neville's scent. "Fuck, it's beautiful," he thought and snuggled even tighter. Neville paused slightly with a lullaby, which startled Seamus. They were friends after all, and not exactly close. He was much better at communicating with Dean, and Neville was... He was just being on his own.
After a brief pause, the silence was broken by Neville's light snores. Seamus relaxed. He didn't think about how it would look from the outside, he didn't want to think about how he would explain it tomorrow, he just wanted to be here and now. He didn't care what anyone thought, he never liked guys, and everyone knew that. Although he hadn't been in a long-term relationship either, no one had ever made fun of him. Maybe that's why he was so taken with Neville. Just out of pity and a sense of injustice. It sounded awful, yeah, but... Fucking nice to be around him…
Seamus woke up to Neville shoving him off with something loudly grumbling.
"Hey, hey," Neville's words broke through Seamus' half-asleep head.
"Fuck, Nev..." Seamus yawned loudly, interrupting Neville's indignation. Seamus rubbed his eyes and looked around.
The sun had already begun to rise, but it felt too early to get up.
"What are you doing?!" exclaimed Neville, sitting on the bed, still covered with a blanket
"What... What am I doing..." whimpered Seamus, still barely understanding Neville's speech.
"You... Are you out of your fucking mind?!"
"Look, so I hugged you, so what… We're not strangers..."
“Hugged?! You squeezed me yours ... right between the rolls…”
“I did what?!” laughed Seamus, “Rolls?!”
“Don’t you fucking laugh! I’m serious!” Neville looked offended at not being taken seriously again.
“Look, mate,” started Seamus, “I’ve got, no idea what happened now, or yesterday, or like… fuck… why did you wake me up so early?!”
“Why did you try to fuck me?!”
Seamus laughed again. Like for real, it’s all cool and all, but fucking? With Neville? No, he never thought of him that way. Although he was still thinking it was all a joke, a slight confusion was on his face.
“I… I’m not into guys, Nev, you know that…”
“Look under your blanket, pervert,” Neville grunted offendedly and nodded towards Seamus' hips.
Seamus lifted the blanket and saw that his cock was erected.
“That’s a morning wood, you, moron,” laughed Seamus, “What?! You never had one all those years?!”
Obviously, he had one. He was just offended that Seamus’ wood got into the wrong forest. Seamus looked at him curiously. Neville was covering himself with blankets. But he looked too offended by all that mess to keep sitting in the same bed with Seamus.
“Let me see yours, Longbottom,” said Seamus and tried to pull off the blanket
"What?!" Neville clutched the blanket on his side and tried to cover himself.
"Nev, are you hard too?!" Seamus laughed out loud, still trying to pull, but got weaker because of the laughter.
“What? No!” He tried to make a straight face, but Seamus laughed even harder. He knew that Neville got morning wood too, it was obvious, and trying to prove it became a matter of principle.
“You dirty fag,” Neville persisted, to which Seamus laughed even harder. He realised that just pulling the blanket was stupid, and besides, Neville fell asleep in his trousers, there was little to see in his trousers, so he simply quickly dived closer to Neville and reached under the blanket, holding the other end with his remaining hand. Finding Neville's cock was not difficult. Grasping it as his prize, he proudly squeezed it through the clothes and his face broke into a smile. Neville inhaled sharply and closed his eyes instinctively. Seamus paused for a few moments and realised that he was probably the first ever person ever to touch Neville like this. He quickly removed his hand and the smile faded from his face.
Neville opened his eyes and they were full of bewilderment and anger. His lips curled into a tube as if trying to say "what," but he couldn't even muster a sentence. It was an unbearable pause.
“Nev, I'm just fooling around, um… I'm sor-," started Seamus but was immediately interrupted
“Shut up,” his voice was stern, and eyes were still angry.
“I didn’t mean to-,” tried again, but got interrupted again.
“SHUT. UP.” he gave Seamus a look of disgust and continued. "That's how you perceive me, right? That I'm just fucking with people?"
"Nev, I..."
"You. What “I”? That’s just dirty, you know, you and your random hookups. I’ve heard the stories, Seamus. The whole Hogwarts knows about you wandering around and carelessly fucking girls."
“Wha-”
“And now you wanna try me? And what am I? Eh? A silly experiment for you? A prank? A joke? A freak?”
“Nev, nothing happened, I didn’t do anything…”
“Because I stopped you. Seamus, you have a reputation here, d-don't drag me into this”
"Mate, It was a mistake, sorry, I..." chattered Seamus.
"Just go," Neville was still sitting on the bed, covered in blankets. He lowered his head and covered his face with his hands. He sat silently, just hoping that by the time he removed his hands, Seamus would be gone. What the heck? What did he do to deserve this? He never did anything wrong to the other guys while they made fun of him for years. Maybe it was even a plan. Maybe Seamus wanted to take advantage of him, and then the rest of his fellow students would have burst in here just to laugh at how Longbottom was humiliated again.