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Harry Potter and the Quiet Life	By : marrjisback Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Neville Views: 15664 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: i do NOT own Harry potter nor am I making any profit from this story

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Hello dearies, sorry for my lateness! hope you enjoy!

December 19^th, 3 Years A.V at Hogwarts.

Dean Thomas was positively bursting with excitement as he rocked on his heels waiting outside of Neville’s office. His hands were trembling slightly and his face was flushed. When Neville finally appeared, talking mundanely to the aging Professor Flitwick, Dean raised his hand towards him urgently.

“Mr. Thomas!” Flitwick squeaked politely. “How are you?”

“Brilliant, Professor. Just hoping to speak with Neville.” Dean said polite, but pointedly. Flitwick seemed to understand. Neville, Flitwick had noted, seemed to be a tad down since the school year had begun. He was not his usual, pleasantly bumbling self. In fact, he wasn’t very clumsy anymore, just mopped about. Flitwick wondered if his clumsiness was a side affect of a somewhat happy and nervous disposition after all. But the careful happiness had been dashed away and the clumsiness had followed suit. Flitwick found he missed the old Neville deeply. He was much too young for a midlife crisis. Flitwick had the sneaking suspicion it involved a girl. Perhaps a visit from Mr. Thomas would be helpful. So Flitwick, a surprisingly observant man, left.

“How’s it, Dean?” Neville said, a little gloomier than usual. Neville was doing his best not to let his broken heart affect his daily interactions but he was finding it rather difficult. And Dean was just a reminder of an old heart ache.

“Oh Neville, you are not going to believe it mate. Let’s talk.” Dean was twitching slightly, clearly overwhelmed with something. As soon as the door to Neville’s office was closed behind him Dean grabbed Neville’s shoulders and swung him around to face him. For a split second, Neville wondered if Dean was going to kiss him. Dean had developed this dreadful habit of cheating. First on Neville with Ginny, then Ginny had cheated on Harry with Dean. Then Neville had tried to kiss Harry and Harry had dumped him. It was all rather complexly interwoven.

“I’m proposing to Ginny. Tonight.” Dean rasped, shaking Neville a little. Dean whipped out a ring, glowing with a fat diamond. His eyes glinted nervously as he licked his lips and looked up at Neville anxiously.

“Oh, Dean!” Neville exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you!” And Neville was surprised at how happy he was for Dean. For Dean, it had always been Ginny. And even if they had got together in a bad way, they perhaps deserved each other. There was a lingering feeling of disappointment and anger. Why had love worked out for the cheater and not for those who had been cheated on? But wasn’t that the way things always went? He clapped Dean on the shoulder, holding back small tears of happiness.

“I wanted you to know, because I want you to be my best man.” Dean grinned, closing the ring box and putting it in his pocket, hands shaking. Neville blinked and stared up at Dean. Blissfully stupid, wonderful Dean. His tears really did rush up and out of him. Just one. He whisked it away quickly. Stuck for words he wrapped Dean in a bear hug. As happy as it was, it burned a little. Dean was an idiot.

“What about Seamus?” Neville said, moments later when he’d calmed down.

“Seamus is my best mate. But he understands. You were there for me at a very…confusing time.” Dean said with his voice low and deep and reminding Neville of sex. “Actually, Seamus is going to marry us.” Dean said offhandedly. “Well, if Ginny says yes, I mean.” He fluttered nervously.

“Of course she will.” Neville said, grinning. “It’s always been you.” Except for the brief bit of time when it was Harry, Neville thought anxiously. Speaking of…

“Well, I have to tell Harry next!” Dean said, smiling at Neville. Neville’s face fell.

“Maybe that’s not a good idea, Dean.” Dean stopped smiling. “I just think that you should maybe leave it. Alone. For awhile anyway. Maybe let me tell him.” Neville added the last part nervously, his face red with uncertainty. He wasn’t sure if he and Harry were on speaking terms. Perhaps a little selfishly, Neville thought maybe their meeting would bring about the feelings of grief that caused things to happen. He was immediately disgusted with himself.

“You think he’s still angry with me?” Dean whispered. What an idiot, Neville thought, You fucked his girlfriend while he was trying to raise his godson.

“Maybe a little. I think he’ll be happy for you, but hurt too. I think he thought he would marry Ginny some day, Dean. Just worry about Ginny for now.” Neville smiled. “Let me tell Harry.”

“Whatever you think is best mate, you understand him better than most of us.” It was a weird thing to hear from Dean and struck him as untrue. Yet true. Harry and him had gone through similar things and it made them understand each other, a little. But he also had no clue what Harry was thinking most of the time. After some more congratulations, a toast of fire whiskey for luck and some more back patting Dean eagerly fled to propose. Neville sat back in his chair, staring out the window uncertainly. Christmas break starts tomorrow. Tomorrow Neville would go tell Harry. Tonight, he was going to get shit faced with Hagrid, Flitwick and Mund the young, wild Muggle Studies Professor.

December 20^th, 3 Years A.V at The Black Bed and Breakfast

Neville appeared, or rather Apperated neatly and loudly into the parking lot and walked down Harry’s street. It was late, not in the night but in the sky. It was pitch dark, lit only by staggering stars muffled under the poisonous smoke of London and the overly cheery Christmas decorations. The bright white, green, red and blue lights buzzed anxiously. The Bed and Breakfast was tastefully lit with white dangling ice lights and a star on the top of the front evergreen. Smoke was puffing pleasantly from the chimney. A house for the meeting of strangers, as always was welcoming and bright. Like Harry.

For the first time, Neville thought that the house was naturally like that but that the presence of Harry had made it so. Harry had such an overwhelming kindness that it must have spilled into whatever home he dwelled in. He knocked uncertainly at the door. Moments later, kindly Mrs. Tonks opened it, a mug of tea in her hands.

“Oh, hello dearie.” She smiled, her dark features so reminiscent of Bellatrix in the half light of the house it made Neville jump a tinge.

“Hello, Mrs. Tonks. Harry about?” He asked as she stepped aside to let him in.

“I’m afraid not,” she said nervously. “He went out.” she said it curtly.

“Something wrong?” he asked as he stepped into the living room. Teddy was playing with trucks on the floor under the Christmas tree, pulling the toys over the wrapped boxes and making noises. He glanced up at Neville, smiled showing his missing front teeth and went back to his toys. They were clearly more interesting than Neville. Well, they were fire trucks so Neville understood.

Mrs. Tonks looked nervously at Teddy then gestured to the kitchen.

“I’m terribly worried about him, dear.” She said. “He’s taken to drink, I’m afraid. Or will soon. I know what an addiction to the drink looks like and he’s getting uncomfortably close. If he doesn’t smarten up…well, I won’t keep Teddy in an unpredictable household, I simply won’t.”

Neville was simply aghast. Not in a million years had he ever suspected, and yet he should have been more surprised than he was.

“Well, I understand he’s been through hell, the poor thing.” She continued, clearly conflicted. She stared pouring some tea for Neville. “And he’s been so lovely to us. And Teddy is his life now. I don’t know what to do. But that Malfoy boy must have done something dreadful and it just tipped him right over the edge. And what with the engagement so soon to follow? Tsk Tsk.”

Neville’s mind was reeling. So he’d heard about the engagement, which was unfortunate. But what about Malfoy? He took a large gulp of hot tea.

“Malfoy?” He said when the scalding had stopped in his mouth.

“Yes, the boy came to live here after you left. Seemed really confused about his life. But at the end of November Harry suddenly kicked him out, big old fight then too. Upset Teddy dreadfully, poor tyke. Harry was quiet undone after that. Went a little overboard with the sleeping draught he puts in his tea nightly. Then it was a bit of fire whiskey in there as well. Then it got better, and then worse as Christmas comes. With the holidays and no family to speak of besides us, well, I think he’s reliving some hard times.” She shook her head. Neville was so…confused. Mrs. Tonks grabbed his hand loosely. She was warm, soft and wrinkled. It reminded him slightly of his grandmother in such a confusing moment he found this comforting. “Maybe you should speak with him, dear. He likes you very dearly.”

Neville covered his face with his hand and leaned heavily on the table with a sigh. “Right now I reckon he hates me.”

“Well, when the ones we love do something stupid, we may think we hate them, but really that’s just love from the opposite end. You just have to get him right side up again.” She pat his arm. Maybe Mrs. Tonks was not as oblivious as Neville thought. He looked at her, and her eyes showed a friendly and accepting knowingness.

“Thank you, Mrs. Tonks.” He said softly.

“Please, call me Nanny. Everyone else does.” She said, smiling neatly.

“Nannyyy!” Cried Teddy from the next room.

“See?” She said as she got up. “It’s past his bedtime. He was hoping to wait up for Harry but…” she trailed off. She put a matchbox on the table. It belonged to the Leaky Cauldron. She tapped it with a painted fingernail. “Bring his Daddy home, Neville. For good.”

Neville was walking anxiously into the Leaky Cauldron and immediately spotted Harry sitting languidly on a barstool. He didn’t look…well. He was disguised, but weakly so. People would be shocked to pick out the wizarding world hero sitting drunkly at Tom’s bar for the third night in a row. Harry was resting his chin on the bar, flicking his finger against the glass. Neville sat on his other side quietly.

“Alright there, Harry?” he said softly. Harry glanced up at him for a moment before angrily turning away.

“Oh, spectacular.” He drawled, his sarcastic humour unpleasant in the darkened tavern. “What are you doing here?”

“Everyone’s worried.” It was the wrong thing to say, Harry snorted and turned away.

“That’s my life isn’t it? Always somebody else’s to worry about.” He downed his glass of amber liquid in one go and tapped the table. Tom looked at him uncertainly, tilting his bald head. Neville shook his head at Tom, and mouthed ‘Water.’

“Are you patronizing me Neville?” Harry slurred a tad as it spat out of his mouth.

“You’re drunk, Harry.” Neville said, not one to beat around the bush. “And you’re kid is waiting at home for you.”

“He isn’t my-“

“Don’t finish that. You’ll regret it.” Neville interrupted. Harry stared at the water Tom had placed in front of him coldly. He drank it and set it down empty. He stared at the glass and the light bouncing through it. “He’s your son, Harry. You aren’t alone. No where near it. You have Ron, Hermione, the whole Weasley gang actually, the Order…” Neville trailed off. “And me. We’re your family, Harry. I’m your family.” Harry tilted the glass a bit and the light danced. It blurred as he felt tears in his eyes.

“Shut up, Neville.” He said, but it was soft. “Let’s go.” He got up, tipsy on his feet.

As they walked back to Harry’s house, Harry summoned a beer bottle and took a long swig.

“Last one, honest.” He said. “Just want to fall asleep good. Been dreaming bad things. Malfoy.” He grunted angrily.

“Were you and he…?” Neville asked, staring at the bottle unhappily. He kept a hold of Harry’s elbow. Harry guffawed but it sounded like a yes.

“So, you really were with Malfoy?” Neville ground his teeth, “You chose him?”

Harry took another long swig of beer and gazed blearily at his old school mate.

“Well, I bloody well thought I did. Silly me.” He laughed, in the loud way drunks do. “Malfoy had a very different idea about it.” Neville frowned. Harry took that as a notion to continue.

“You know, I enter these kinds of relationships expecting more than I get. Then they somehow end up fucking someone else.” Fucking caught in his throat a bit. “And where the fuck were you? You just fucking disappeared instead of discussing things like adults and then Malfoy? Of all people I get with Malfoy? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Not a damn, fucking thing.” Neville said sharply. Harry shuttered a little at the word coming out of Neville’s mouth. Hid vision blurred and he sat heavily in the snow.

“Gimme a sec.” he said blearily.

“How many? Relationships, I mean.” Neville sat slowly beside him, borrowing Harry’s bottle to take a long, nervous gulp.

“Well, before Malfoy it was George Wesley.” Harry sighed. “Not that you could expect a legitimate relation from George. It was more of a comfort thing, the anniversary of Fred’s death it was.” He touched his own cheek tenderly, as though remembering a different hand there. “Still, I hoped. There’s a couple of them, I don’t know. Let’s not.”

“I’d want to know about all of them.” Neville muttered. “If we were to enter a relationship.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Come again?”

“You and I. If we dated. I’d want to know.”

“Neville. Are you gay?” the question seemed so pointless to Neville.

“Of course.” He said blankly. Then his heart tumbled with a sudden thought. “A-are you?”

“Well, I-well yes.” He sounded somewhat confused.

“But you dated girls?”

“Well, I did date Ginny for awhile.” Harry scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Kissed Cho, before I discovered my, uh, interests. And Luna. I dated Luna for time.” Neville nodded, though Luna shocked him.

“I dated Hannah Abbott for awhile.” He said. Harry felt a weird pang of jealousy, but knew that was silly. “My first boy was Dean Thomas.” Neville continued and Harry’s mouth plopped open.

“But… he was dating Ginny?” He stuttered.

“Pre-Ginny. The year she dated you actually. I think he was just upset that you two were together and we ended up, I don’t know, relieving each other I guess.” Harry shook his head, shocked. Dean Thomas. That fucker.

“Oh. My first boy was a muggle.” Harry said suddenly, as though he just remembered. “I mean, we kissed once. And that was when I got confused. I mean, he just leaned over and planted one

on me. We spent the summer together and on the last day he just kissed me. And I liked it. Up till then, I was positive I was straight. That was the summer after sixth year. His name was James. I wonder what he’s up to now? That was the last time I saw him…Then there was one time with Charlie Wesley.”

Neville frowned. “What is with you and the Wesley’s? You’ve kissed, like, three of them.” Harry turned very pale pink and seemed to be counting in his head.

“Well.” He said awkwardly. Neville swallowed.

“How many have you kissed?”

“All but Percy.” Harry said sheepishly, his cheeks pink from the drink. Neville took a long gulp of beer.

“No shit. Even Ron?”

“You were there! Christmas Eve at school? We all got drunk and played spin the bottle? Me and Ron frenched.” Relief splashed over Neville. That barely counted.

“And Bill?”

“That was an accident. When they all drank the polyjuice potions he mistook me for Fleur and kissed me…passionately. Barely had the heart to tell him I wasn’t Fleur.” There was a muffled, slightly hysterical giggle.

“And Fred?”

“Well, that time with George wasn’t me first experience with George.”

“Both? At the same time? Merlin’s beard, Harry!” Harry ducked his head in-between his shoulders, embarrassed. “You oughta complete the set. Kiss Percy!”

“Y-you think?” He mumbled, rubbing his cheek.

“My word, you little minx. Unbelievable.” Neville rubbed the back of his neck and drank again. “So, real relationship-wise, it was Cho, Fred and George, Ginny and Malfoy?”

Harry nodded meekly.

“And I’ve Hannah, Dean and Mund. Well, briefly. He’s a teacher at Hogwarts. We dated two years ago, we’re friends now.” Neville said. “Now that we got all that out of the way. Harry. I like you. A lot.”

Harry’s heart stopped. Which would have felt romantic if he were not drunk. As it was, he briefly wondered if he were going to die. Then he vomited. He seemed to do that a lot in Neville’s presence. Neville pat his back unhappily. This was supposed to be their moment. Why the hell had he decided to confess now? When Harry was drunk and stupid? Perhaps he hoped not to get so firmly rejected.

“Ughh.” Harry said as he vomited again. Neville pretended it meant ‘I like you too, let’s date!’ In reality it probably meant ‘Why are there always carrots?’

“Hey!” shouted a slurry voice. “Aaa—re you HARRY FUCKING POTTERRR?”

For a moment, Neville thought they must be wizards, but it looked to be three young muggles. They were highly inebriated. Neville was at loss. This just kept getting messier. He very much wished they had made it down the rest of the street. He could see the house, for Merlin’s sake.

“THE FUCKER THAT ST-TOLE MY GIRLFRIEND?”

“Shit.” Harry moaned. “What are you talking about?” He wiped his mouth and straightened to face his opponent. “I guarantee she isn’t my type.” Neville couldn’t help but snort.

“This is him, mate! That’s Potter!” One of the other boys said. The boy who had somehow misplaced his girlfriend suddenly swung out at Harry. Neville’s instincts were slow and shocked, but Harry’s, despite his current state, was as sharp as an Auror. He ducked and rammed his arm, full strength into his face. The boy crumpled immediately and his friends caught him and flung him back into position. He took a few wild swipes that Harry would have dodged easily, had he been done throwing up. Vomit rushed him just as the boy swung a cracking hit into Harry’s nose and Harry turned to vomit as blood dripped out of his nose.

“Ugh!” Harry moaned. “I’m never drinking again.” He toned the cliché out sickly.

Neville stepped in then. “Easy mates, easy. He didn’t steal anyone’s girl, honest.”

“Aw, like bloody hell.” One of the friends said uncertainly. “He won’t stop till he’s knocked out anyways.” They shrugged. The boy threw a punch which caught Neville on the lip.

“H-Hey!” He said, touching his split lip. Harry saw red and his mind cleared. With two swift hits to some strategic places the boy crumpled to the ground in a dead faint. He raised his fits to his face and looked at the other boys.

“Anyone else want to take a swing at my mate?” Harry said through the slough of blood painting his face. The boys stared in awe at their friend bleeding into the snow.

“Bloody hell.” One of them muttered. “Sorry mate. Let’s get him in the car.” He said to his friend.

‘No way, you all driving?” Harry said, mind clear still. “Not on my watch. I own an Inn. Sleep it off there, no charge.” He helped the two boys hoist their friend onto their shoulders and staggered a lead into the house. Neville followed, bewildered. Harry cast a few silent spells over the boy he’d obliterated to make sure he hadn’t any concussions. He sleepily led the boys to their rooms, informing them to stay quiet.

“There’s a baby on the next floor sleeping.” he told them, starting to feel more and more bleary. Neville silently helped him climb the stairs, and helped him clean the blood off his face. As he wiped a wet cloth over Harry’s chin, Harry stared at him. Neville was kind. It was all over him, like a smell. All Harry could smell was his own blood and a little vomit, but he could remember Neville’s smell. It was something sweet, he knew, but earthy.

“I like you too, Nev.” Harry said. “A lot. I would very much like to date you.” Neville smiled, warmed right to his insides.

“Yeah, we’ll see what you say tomorrow, alright.”

“No, Nev, listen. I like you. I like everything about you. When I kissed you after your gran died, I was just using your weakness. I liked you even then. I like you. I like you.” He kept repeating it drunkly, sounding so beautifully honest. So wonderfully sweet. Neville kissed him chastely and softly and put him to bed. All he could do now is hope Harry felt the same come morning light. And a little confident part of him felt certain he would.

-.-.-.

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Is Harry a bit of a slut? I’m not sure XD lol, but I like him this way.
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Harry Potter and the Quiet Life