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Neville carefully leaned back in his seat, making sure that he would not be easily seen through the window of the train carriage. He’d made sure to be early, to reach platform 9 ¾ before most of the other students, after how his attempt at shopping for his school things had gone. The Wizengamot had announced their decision to encourage and reward marriage and children, to ‘strengthen their society’, as they’d put it, and many had eagerly adopted the suggestion.

He froze when he saw movement in the train corridor. He’d locked the door, of course, but he could do without having to explain why he wouldn’t open it. He stood up to glance out and see who it was. The unruly hair was easy to recognise, so he quickly unlocked the door. “Harry,” he hissed, trying not to draw attention from anyone else.

Harry looked as hunted as Neille had felt in Diagon Alley. He glanced up and down the corridor, then wave him in. “Come on, quick.” When Harry had entered the carriage, he locked the door again.

“I feel like I’m back to last year,” Harry muttered, drooping heavily onto the seat.

He sat down across from him. “Now, Harry, many of those girls are much more effective than Death Eaters at cornering their prey.”

Harry snorted. “True.”

“Not that I expected you to be considered for long. I thought you and Ginny…?”

“No, I’m… we’re not dating again.”

That was a surprise. When the decision had been published, many had expected an announcement from Harry and Ginny to follow soon. Neville winced. That they weren’t together again made Harry likely the most sought-after eligible wizard. “I’m sorry.”

“It was my decision not to rekindle our relationship.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Neville said. “Sorry for how they must be hunting you.”

“Thanks.” Harry flashed him a brief smile “But I expect you’re struggling with the same? As another hero of the war?”

Neville grimaced. The interest some of the accounts published had generated was horrible.

“So if you want to date Ginny again…”

“No, thanks.” It was crass to say, but Ginny had been considered good for no-string dating, not for serious courting. It was obvious she was aiming to become Lady Potter. If she wanted to have some fun before that, they were fine with that. Never mind that she was not what he wanted in a spouse.

“I wouldn’t have thought that so many girls want to marry me, just because I won.”

“The title and money are also part of what makes you the most sought-after bachelor,” Neville pointed out. Though the fame was likely the deciding factor for many.

Harry stared at him. “Title?”

Neville frowned, confused by the question. “Yes, now that you’re of age, you can claim your title and the rights and duties that come with it.” He hesitated. It was considered impolite to ask, but… “Haven’t you done so yet?”

“I didn’t even know about a title!”

“No one mentioned it to you? The Potter lordship is well-known. And aren’t you Sirius Black’s heir? That would mean you’re potentially the new Lord Black as well.”

Harry closed his eyes and took a few deep breathes. “How can I find out? And what are the rights and duties?”

“The main one is probably the seat and vote on the Wizengamot. It’s expected that something for the Wizarding community is done, like working in the Ministry, charities, donations, … Your family has donated the patents for a few potions and your father joined the aurors during the war.”

“Potions? My family worked with potions?”

Neville felt like cursing. Just how ignorant had he been kept?

It seemed Harry could read his thoughts on his face, since he said: “I think you need to assume that, unless it has been covered in a lesson at Hogwarts, I haven’t heard about it.”

“Ron hasn’t mentioned anything?”

“Ron?”

Neville shrugged. “He told me not to bring it up with you when I asked about your joining some of us heirs in the library when we started familiarising ourselves with our accounts and the Wizengamot minutes.” And he had been far from polite about his refusal and Harry’s supposed opinion.

“I would have loved to join you.”

Neville nodded decisively. “Good. I will mention it to the others.”

Harry leaned forward. “Wait, are you still meeting? Can I join you this year?”

“We are still meeting, yes. I’m sure the others won’t mind your joining us. And they will be more polite about their interest, even if a marriage would be politically advantageous. But I was mainly thinking that they should know you didn’t stay away out of disinterest or arrogance.”

Harry groaned. “They thought I knew.”

Neville shrugged. No one had said anything in his presence, likely because they knew he considered Harry his friend, but he was aware that some had not taken kindly to his absence. “I’ll ask my grandmother to send me some of the introductory books, to help you prepare for the first meeting.” He fell silent, letting Harry work through the new information. From the way he was frowning, something about it was bothering him.

“They are interested in marrying me, even though they think I’m ignoring my duty. Just for the fame and money?”

Neville had not been impressed by how mercenary a number of wix pursuing them were, but he still felt duty-bound to point out: “They might have thought you had a proxy and had just concentrated on the more... immediate issues for the time being.” Like the danger You-Know-Who and his followers had presented, the danger that had seemed to follow Harry through his years at school.

“Perhaps,” Harry agreed slowly. “What about you? You said you don’t want to date Ginny. Is there someone else you’re seeing? Or you’re interested in?”

“No, not really.” He smiled sadly. “There haven’t exactly been many who have been interested in me, not just in my family name.” He knew he wasn’t exactly one of the most attractive guys in their year. “Not that I’m completely opposed to a political marriage, but I want my spouse to be my partner, to stand by my side for the good of the family we’ll build together. I don’t want someone just looking for an easy life of luxury.”

“So you want a girl who knows how to deal with...” Harry waved a hand, “… all that?”

Neville shrugged. “Not necessarily. They can learn what they need to know. They just have to be willing to put in the effort to learn.”

“So someone like Hermione...?”

Neville wrinkled his nose. “I don’t think we’d work out long-term. I want to make my family proud and continue their legacy, but I don’t have the ambition she needs in a partner. Though I would not be opposed to taking her on a few courtship dates.” Especially if it meant blocking Ron and his feeling of entitlement to her. “But I wouldn’t want to lead her on. And I heard Victor Krum has returned to Britain as temporary trainer for the Montrose Magpies.”

“You think he’s here for Hermione?”

“I ran into him at Flourish & Blotts,” Neville confided. “He bought a stack of books, including introductory texts on courting, and discussed the best spells for library trunks.”

“Well, I guess it’s something that he supports her seeking knowledge.”

He sounded begrudging. “Are you interested in her?” Neville asked cautiously.

“No. No, she’s my friend. She is... like my sister, I guess. From what I’ve seen and heard about having siblings.”

Neville nodded in understanding. He’d struggling himself with that distinction with Susan. Fortunately Luna had been willing to listen to him talk it out long enough to understand what he was really feeling.

“I’ve never given it much thought, what I like in a girlfriend,” Harry said. “And now, with what you’ve told me about my title, there’s even more I need to consider. What you said, about continuing their legacy, it’s what I want as well.” He grimaced. “So I’ll need to do well in Potions this year.”

Neville nodded. “You don’t have to work with potions yourself, but you should have an understanding at least, to make it easier to make decisions on the patents and requests you’ll receive.”

“Good point. But I meant so I can join the aurors, like my father did.”

Neville hesitated, then asked: “Did someone mention that your father had signed only a temporary employment contract?”

“What?”

“Many young wix joined the aurors because of the war going on at the time. They even waved some of the training for the temporary forces.” Which he was not sure he agreed with. He’d often wondered if it would have made a difference, if the Lestranges might have been captured earlier if the aurors had been properly trained. “The plan was to return to their original job or to start training on the one they had originally wanted.”

Harry stared at him silently for a long moment, then asked: “Do you know...?”

Neville shook his head regretfully. “No, I’m sorry. But I’ve heard that your mother was in contact with Flitwick, especially during her pregnancy. Perhaps he knows about her plans?”

“I’ll ask him.”

Harry used the rest of the train journey asking any questions about the Wizarding world that he could think of. It was startling and disheartening how much he had been unaware of. How much no one had thought to tell him. Hopefully Neville’s grandmother would send those books quickly, he didn’t want to overstay his welcome and keep Neville from doing what he actually wanted to do by pestering him with questions. Neville was kind enough to answer for now, but he didn’t want to take advantage of his kind nature. He’d need the information soon, to figure out what he needed in a wife. It would probably be best if he picked a wife who was at least aware of what being titled meant in the Wizarding world. Someone who would be patient with him and willing to teach him.

“Do you mind if I ask you some more questions later?” he asked when the train pulled into the station at Hogsmeade.

“Sure.” Neville passed him his cloak and held the door open for him.

He smiled in thanks. He took a deep, bracing breath, then stepped out of the safety of their compartment. Hopefully people would be too distracted by the controlled chaos of the platform to notice him or proposition him.

“Harry, mate, there you are,” he heard Ron exclaim the moment he stepped off the train. He sighed when he saw Ron push his way through the other students to get to his side. Not an easy feat, considering the interest his shout had caused. Interest Harry could have gladly done without.

Ron grabbed his arm when he was within reach and pulled him along. “Where were you? We were looking for you.” He lowered his voice, though the platform was too busy for others not to hear. “Ginny missed you.”

“Ah.” He was tempted to say that he hadn’t missed her, but bit back the impulse. “From the last letter I got from George, it sounded like your family is doing okay, now that Fred has woken up.” They had worried for a while there that he would die from his injuries, but fortunately he had pulled through.

“They are. I meant that Ginny has been looking forward to seeing you again. You haven’t visited in a while.”

“There was so much going on for your family, I didn’t think it would be the right time to have a friend come over.” Never mind that the bustle of the Burrow was hard for him to take during a normal summer. After everything that had happened, he’d needed some peace and quiet to come to terms with it.

And he’d been hiding as much as possible from witches.

Ron waved him off. “You’re practically family. Or will be, at least, when you and –” He’d still been looking at Harry and had not seen another group of students getting off the carriage they were passing and ran into them. “Hey, watch where you’re going!”

Harry opened his mouth to apologize on Ron’s behalf, but then they turned to face them. He stared, surprise to recognize Malfoy and Zabini, with two female Slytherins he couldn’t remember the names of right behind them. Malfoy seemed to have started growing his hair out again. It was also no longer slicked back but instead free to frame his face. Harry closed his mouth again and braced for Ron’s reaction.

“Malfoy?! What are you doing here?”

“I’d have expected you to have figured out by now why we take the Hogwarts train, Weasley” Zabini said. He still hadn’t removed his hand from where he’d caught Malfoy when he’d stumbled on impact. “And it’s Zabini now, not Malfoy.” He slipped an arm around Malfoy’s waist. “We have decided to go with my name.”

What? Harry tried to wrap his mind around what he was saying. It sounded like...

“Congratulations on your nuptials,” Neville said from behind him.

Harry glanced at him over his shoulder, relieved to find that his friend had followed them. Hopefully he’d be willing to also answer the new questions that had come up now.

“I saw the announcement in the papers yesterday but haven’t sent my best wishes yet,” Neville continued. “I figured I could do so today in person. Zabini.” He nodded to him, then turned to Malfoy. “Consort Zabini?” His voice rose slightly at the end.

Malfoy – or rather Zabini, now, from the sounds of it? – wordlessly inclined his head. He seemed to be ignoring Ron.

“Thank you, Longbottom,” Zabini said.

Harry jumped when Neville nudged him in the side, but he figured he could guess what he wanted to tell him. “Congratulations, Zabini, Consort Zabini,” he repeated. He ignored Ron’s shocked look at his reaction.

“Thank you, Potter.”

“Will you go on to save us a carriage?” one of the girls said. “I need to see Astoria for a moment.”

“I believe I saw her a moment ago in the direction we came from, Greengrass,” Neville said.

“Thank you, Longbottom.”

She left and Zabini – the one born Zabini – directed the other three towards the carriages.

“What the fuck?” Ron demanded. “That was Malfoy! Why is he here?”

“I would assume to finish his last year at Hogwarts, same as us,” Neville said.

“Why have they let him back? Has his father bribed the Board of Governors?”

“Unlikely, considering Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban,” Neville said. “Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, however, have been given a lesser sentence. And the Board of Governors has not yet been re-established. Any decisions about the new school year have been made by Professor McGonagall and the other teachers.”

Harry stifled a smile. He’d love to see Ron confront and question McGonagall. As long as he didn’t have to be part of that conversation, at least. It was probably for the best that Ron had no idea he had spoken up for Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, for the more lenient sentence.

“Ah, Hermione is already at the carriages,” Neville said.

“Better not keep her waiting,” Harry agreed. And better not stay on the platform, where there would soon be girls offering to ride with him. He took advantage of Ron having let go of his arm to slip away before he could pull him towards Ginny again.

“Good idea,” Neville agreed and followed him.

“Is there still room for two more?” Harry asked when he was within earshot.

Hermione looked up from her book. She blinked for a moment, then smiled brightly at him. “Harry, Neville. It’s good to see you.” She waved them in. “Of course, join us.”

“Us?” Harry asked.

Luna stepped out from behind the thestrals. “Hello, Harry. Neville.”

Harry was relieved to see that she seemed fine, no traces left of what they had gone through. “Hello Luna.” He let her climb in, then joined them with Neville.

“What the -?” Ron had reached the carriage as well. “Luna, don’t you want to ride with your house mates? Ginny was looking forward to riding with Harry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron,” Hermione said. “She’ll see him at dinner soon enough.”

Ron looked at her, then glared when he saw the book she was holding. “Are you still reading that?”

“Yes.” She glared right back. “And I happen to enjoy it.”

“It doesn’t look like one of our schoolbooks,” Neville said.

Harry was surprised to see her actually blush. “It’s not. It was a gift.”

He caught Neville’s gaze, and they exchanged a smile. Seems like Neville was right. “Oh?”

“Viktor gave it to me, together with...” She glanced at Ron. “...some others.”

From what Neville had said, it was quite a number of books Krum had gifted her. Not that Harry could blame Hermione for downplaying it in front of Ron. He doubted his jealousy where Krum was concerned had decreased, nor his jealousy of those with more money than him.

“You should go and find a seat as well, Ron,” Harry suggested. He pointed behind him to the platform, which was much emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. “The carriages are filling up and the first are setting off.”

He frowned. “Fine.” Then he stomped off.

Harry knew that they would hear about it later but for now, he wanted to ask more questions. “That just now... Two men carry marry?”

“Sure,” Neville said casually. “So can two women. In fact, Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis, the two girls just now, are engaged to one another. Their wedding is scheduled for the spring holiday.”

So that were their names. Though Neville’s answer still left him confused. “I thought this promotion of marriages was to increase the number of births.”

“There are different rituals to conceive, even in cases among couples who can’t naturally conceive together,” Neville said.

“There’s a chapter about it in my book,” Hermione added. “It’s fascinating. There are even rituals for couples where one or both can’t or don’t desire to have sex. I had no idea it was possible.”

“My grandmother has been fighting on the Board of Governors to have a more comprehensive sex education at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore thought it would be too strange for... some students.”

“For Muggleborn, you mean,” Hermione said, noticing Neville’s awkward pause.

He nodded hesitantly.

She snorted. “It’s different, yes, but we should still learn about it. I imagine there are some who would be happy to learn about these options.”

Harry wondered if she was thinking about someone specific or if she was speaking in general about not wanting information to be kept from people. “Is it... common in the Wizarding world? Same-gender couples, I mean?” He couldn’t remember seeing any before today.

Neville stared off into the distance, head tilted to the side. “It’s not uncommon. There’ve been a few at Hogwarts, I know. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. Cadwallader and Higgs. Wood and Flint.”

Harry straightened up. “Wait, what? Oliver and Marcus Flint? Are you sure?”

Neville rubbed his forehead. “I stumbled across their... meet-ups more than once when coming back in from the greenhouses. I’m sure.”

“Oh dear.” Hermione tried unsuccessfully to hide her laughter. “I’m sorry, Neville.”

He waved her off. “No, it’s fine. I can see the funny side of it now. Back then I was too embarrassed.”

“Malfoy and Zabini weren’t dating before?” Harry asked. He didn’t remember any signs of it during their sixth year, when he’d been watching Malfoy. Hadn’t he been dating Parkinson?

“No, Draco was too invested in following Uncle Lucius’ views.” Luna wrinkled her nose. “And he didn’t like the idea of Draco having an equal spouse. He preferred a second child or someone from a side branch.”

“‘Uncle’ Lucius?” Hermione repeated slowly.

Luna hummed, smiling at them. “Yes, he’s my mother’s older brother.”

Hermione stared, looking horrified. “Your uncle...”

“Then it’s even better that he is in Azkaban now,” Neville said. “Were you at the wedding?”

“I was. Fortunately there were no Wrackspurts there. And Draco and Blaise looked so happy.”

Hermione looked like she wanted to discuss the matter of Luna’s relation to Lucius Malfoy more, but Harry caught her eyes and shook his head. He hated talking about his own uncle and their relationship, he could imagine Luna felt the same. “Was it a big wedding?” he asked Luna.

Time flew as Luna had told them more about the wedding and they had soon reached Hogwarts. Neville had to admit, he felt a bit jealous. A small, intimate ceremony with close friends and family was how he would like to celebrate his own wedding. He had not given much thought to his prospective spouses – he was well aware he was less striking, less attractive than the other heirs attending Hogwarts with him, so there had been far less wix showing genuine interest in him, at least before the final battle. Not that he minded overly. He was content to avoid notice. He would have been all too happy to come out of the war without being considered a hero.

They fell silent when they passed the gate and entered the school grounds, looking out and taking in all the changes, both compared to how it had looked for most of the school years, but also compared to the aftermath of the final battle. The damages had been repaired, but, by design or by necessity, not everything had been returned to how it had been.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the castle, yet they did not get out at once.

Hermione carefully settled her bag with the book, making sure she was holding it securely, then opened the door and stood. “Ready?”

To start their last school year? To face the other students? Not that it really mattered. Not that they really had a choice. “Ready,” Neville said and followed her out. He could practically feel the attention from the other students narrowing in on them but did his best to ignore it. He offered both Harry and Luna a hand down. It allowed him to see Harry’s grimace before he schooled his features. “Let’s go to the Great Hall,” he said, voice lowered. “Hopefully having all the professors there will keep them from being too pushy.”

“Let’s hope so.”

They walked Luna to the Ravenclaw table, then made their way to the Gryffindor table.

Hermione sat down first, placing her bag safely under the bench. Harry sat beside her. Neville paused, considering where to sit. Typically, Ron would side on Harry’s free side, but earlier Harry hadn’t seemed too happy to see him. He could sit across from them, perhaps?

He made to walk around the table, but Harry patted the bench beside him in invitation. “Unless you agreed to sit with someone else?”

“No, no. There’s...” He stopped before he could say ‘no one else I’d rather sit with’. That would sound both pathetic and pushy. “I’m fine sitting with you.”

More and more students came in and the noise level rose. Everywhere students were eagerly greeting friends they had not seen on the train, that they had not seen in some time, in some cases. Neville returned the greetings offered, though he remained seated. Here at the opening feast, it was an acceptable excuse to avoid some of the closer contact some wanted to initiate. Some of his fellow students were clearly going for a hug but settled for touching his or Harry’s arm or shoulder when they didn’t stand. He noticed how Harry moved closer to him, with Hermione following suit, to use the close quarters as further discouragement for others. He played along, happy to be able to help him. He just hoped the sorting would start soon, to put an end to this.

He was genuinely happily to greet Dean and Seamus when they sat down across from him, both because he was glad to see them and because it cut off one place for interested suitors to sit.

“Hello Harry, Neville,” Lavender and Parvati greeted them as they came to the table. He noted how they ignored Hermione, how Lavender even glared at her briefly.

He smiled politely and nodded to them. “Lavender, Parvati, how are you?”

They giggled. “Well, and you?”

“Fine,” Harry said, at the same time as he replied: “I’m fine.”

He was none too happy to see them try to decide which of them got to sit beside him, so he turned to Harry and asked: “How do you think Montrose Magpies will do this year? With the rumours of a new trainer?”

Harry frowned slightly but played along. “I heard something about Krum coming to Britain again.”

“He is back,” Hermione confirmed. She reached for her bag but stopped before touching it. “He said in his letter that he would serve as co-trainer this season.”

Lavender and Parvati went further down the bench and sat beside her. “You’re still in contact with him?” Lavender asked.

“I am. He told me about the position as trainer and asked if we might meet in Hogsmeade on a weekend.”

Lavender’s smile was far friendlier suddenly. “That sounds nice.” She looked up and beamed. “Ronnie! Ginny. Hello.”

The two Weasleys stopped beside the table. They only nodded briefly to acknowledge her greeting. Neville could feel their stares, both wordlessly telling him to make room for them. He glanced at Harry, to see if he wanted him to move away. Harry briefly dropped his hand to his arm, giving him a squeeze and shaking his head slightly, so Neville pretended not understand what they meant.

“Hello Ginny, Ron,” Seamus said. “We should be able to squeeze you in here.” He slid closer to Dean, making room on his other side. He winked at Lavender, as this put Ron across from her.

“Hello Harry,” Ginny said. “I was looking for you on the train.”

“Ron said.”

Ginny’s smiled dimmed slightly when Harry didn’t continue and didn’t give her much attention. “I missed you during the summer,” she said. “It will be nice to see each other again every day, to live together.”

Neville’s raised his brows. That was bold, even for Ginny.

“It is nice that they have offered us the chance to have a proper final year at Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“Though things will be a little different in the Tower.” Dean’s words drew all their attention to him.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

He looked surprised by their reaction. After a quick glance at the teachers’ table, he explained: “McGonagall will probably announce it in her speech after the sorting, but there are a few married couples among the off-age students. They get small rooms together and the dorms will be reduced in size to make space.”

“How do you know that?” Ron asked.

Dean smiled at Seamus, then turned back to Ron. “Seamus and I are one of the married couples.”

Seamus shrugged. “Why wait and waste more time?”

“McGonagall told us about it when we informed her of my change in names,” Dean said. “At least in our case it’s within the House. They had to arrange for rooms in unused corridors for some of the other couples.”

“Congratulations,” Neville said. He was genuinely happy for the two of them, though he would have preferred they’d have waited, if only because it would have potentially drawn at least some of the attention. He could also not begrudge them their choice of a short courtship, not after they had all had to learn how short life could be.

Harry felt like screaming. Barely a week had passed, yet he was already considering cutting his time at school short and simply taking the exams after some self-study, the way the Ministry had offered before. He got barely any moment of peace. Now that he knew, he noticed that students irrespective of gender were trying to get close to him, not just girls, as he’d thought at first. They all tried to spend time with him, to get close to him. Some especially forward students even tried to touch him or to get him alone.

He had taken to spending most of his time with Neville, both because they were in a similar position and to at least reduce the harassment, either by offering the excuse of a conversation (which only worked on the polite ones) or by Neville copying his grandmother’s reaction to improper behaviour (he wondered if she would agree to visit and serve as his chaperone). The only real peace he got was in the library, sitting at a table close to Madame Pince with Hermione and sometimes Neville.

He wondered if he could just move into the library. Or perhaps he could plan in a nap there? Or in the Chambers of Secret?

“Hello, Harry.”

He barely managed not to groan out loud. He’d been hoping to get out and spend some time on his broom. “Hello, Ginny.”

She was among the worst offenders where following him around and flirting was concerned. Her hints that she wanted to rekindle their relationship were getting more and more blatant, as were her attempts to drive away others. He gave her a brief once-over, noting the undone top bottoms of her blouse, the way her school cloak had been left open.

He had already been hesitant to get back together with her again. The weeks he had spent without contact with other wix had him doubting if he really had feelings for her, never mind if he wanted a future together. Now that he was back at school, he was starting to wonder if he had truly wanted her or if it had not been more a matter of wanting to fulfil Ron’s expectations, of wanting to be part of a big family like the Weasleys. Now he wanted to learn more about his own family. And the more he learned about it and their place in the wizarding world, the more he wanted to continue their legacy. Ginny and Ron were instead talking about playing Quidditch professionally. He was trying to learn as quickly as possible about the traditions and etiquette needed for his position. Ginny was at best dismissive about it. He could no longer see her as a potential partner, a potential spouse. He would never be able to make his ancestors, his parents proud if he followed her lead.

“Are you going flying?” she asked. “We could have a little competition, see who catches the snitch first.”

“No, thank you. I just wanted to do some flying.” He just wanted some peace and privacy.

“Perhaps you could watch me? Give me some tips?” Ginny asked. “I’m hoping to be scouted by one of the professional Quidditch teams.”

He wondered idly if she was relieved by his decision not to play Quidditch this year, which allowed her to remain as seeker. Ron had not understood and had been pissed. Harry was still considering how to turn her down without her throwing another tantrum, or her getting Ron to do it for her, when they reached the Quidditch pitch. “Oh.” He struggled to hide his smile and to not sound too happy about it. “It looks like someone else had the same idea already.”

Draco Zabini was flying around the pitch with Summerby, with his husband and cousin watching from the stands. Luna smiled and waved at them. “Hello Harry, Ginny.”

Zabini nodded in greeting, only briefly turning to look at them. “Potter. Weasley.”

Ginny bristled. “What are you doing here? I want to train.”

“So do we,” Summerby said. He’d directed his broom down to the height of the stands, while Malfoy stayed up higher in the air. “We asked Madame Hooch, she didn’t say anything about the pitch being booked?”

“I didn’t book it.”

“Then the two of you can join us. Kempston was going to as well, but she got caught up in an essay she’s researching.” Summerby rolled his eyes, but he mostly seemed amused.

“No, I just want to do some flying.” Seeing his face fall, Harry offered: “Perhaps another time?”

“Great.” He rose up again, ignoring Ginny’s muttered complains.

“Are you here to watch them train?” Harry asked Luna. She’d been at the Quidditch matches, like the other students, but he had never seen her at the training sessions, the way some others would come to watch.

“I’m going flying with Draco after his training.” She patted Zabini’s shoulder. “Blaise suggested it. He is keeping me company while we wait.”

“That’s... nice.” Though it was still strange to him that they were related.

She glanced at Ginny, then added quietly: “It will be about half an hour until then, so you have some time.”

“Thanks, Luna.” He mounted his broom and took off. Fortunately, Ginny just had the school broom, a broom far too slow to keep up with his Firebolt.

For a few minutes, he allowed himself to get lost in the sense of freedom being on a broom brought. There were no demands, no stares, no unwanted touches. The only thing that could have made it better would be to have someone to share it with, either flying beside him or even just nearby, the way Luna and Zabini had accompanied Draco Zabini.

A quick Tempus and he directed his broom back towards Hogwarts. He’d agreed with Hermione to work on their Transfiguration essays together He did not want to run into the other students again when they finished their training, so instead of flying to the Quidditch pitch, he flew to the new Astronomy tower. When the castle had been rebuilt, the original Astronomy tower had also been rebuilt, but they had moved the lessons to one of the other towers. He quickly dropped his broom off in his dorm and grabbed his invisibility cloak, then went to the library. He did not normally resort to it, but he did not have to patience to listen to Ginny or Ron berate him once again for not spending time with Ginny, for making it clear to the other students that they were not dating again.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him when slipped off the cloak after sitting down across from her.

“Ginny intercepted me when I went flying,” Harry defended himself.

She sighed. “She’s not going to give up anytime soon.” She glared at two seventh years who were coming towards their table, smiling invitingly at him. He was amused to see them both pale and change course. “None of them are. Some might listen if you were to set criteria you’re looking for in a wife.”

“Spouse,” he corrected softly. He had been giving it some thought since Neville had told him that two wizards could marry as well and had come to the realization that it did not matter to him.

“That you’re looking for in a spouse,” Hermione said. “Some will ignore it. Ginny certainly won’t listen. Especially with Molly encouraging her to believe you are destined to be together, that she’s owed your hand in marriage.”

“Owed?” he repeated.

“You’re her Prince Charming, who came to save her in her first year. Now you’ll sweep her off her feet and you’ll live happily ever after.”

“I’m not the prize in her personal fairy tale. Nor am I interested in being some kind of Prince Charming.” He didn’t mind the idea of pampering his partner sometime, of making them feel cherished, but he wanted an equal partnership, but having to subordinate his own needs and dreams for someone else’s. He’d had to do so all his life with the Dursleys. After getting a taste of living for himself over the summer, he did not want to go back.

“I understand,” she assured him.

“Does Viktor?”

She smiled bashfully. “I think so, yes. He supports my career goals. He’s been offering me information and resources, both to figure out what my options are and how I want to go about reaching them.”

“Good. You deserve it.”

“You also deserve someone who will respect you and support you and your dreams,” she said fiercely. She shook her head. “Unfortunately wix are stubborn. They won’t stop pursuing you until you’re married.”

He sighed. Unfortunately she was right. There were too many who didn’t care about what he wanted and would only give up when he married. He perked up. “Right. Until I’m married.” He stood quickly. “Hermione, I have to go. I’ll be back later to finish the essay.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see Neville.”

Neville jumped when he stepped out of the greenhouse and almost ran into Harry. “Harry, hey. What brings you here?” His fellow Gryffindors rarely came to the greenhouse outside of Herbology lessons. Some of the girls had started visiting recently, only to switch to waiting outside when the temperatures and pollen inside had proven to interfere with hairstyles and cosmetics. None of them seemed to be around now, as a quick look around showed.

“Let’s get married,” Harry blurted out.

Neville stared at him silently, certain he must have misheard. But Harry was just staring at him expectantly, fidgeting more and more the longer the silence lasted. He took Harry by the shoulder and pushed him into the greenhouse, directing him to a stool. “Are you okay? Where is this coming from?” He leaned forward and peered into his eyes. They didn’t look glassy, but then not all spells or potions left visible signs.

“They won’t leave us alone until we are married. So what if we got married to one another? We’re both willing to enter a political marriage. We both want a partnership, someone to respect and continue our families’ legacies.” Harry’s smile changed and he looked a bit embarrassed. “You don’t mind having to explain things to me, having to teach me what I should have learned years ago.”

He frowned. There was no reason for him to feel ashamed. “It’s not your fault that you weren’t taught.”

“I should have noticed that I was missing information.”

He was pretty certain Ron at the very least had made certain he wouldn’t notice. Not that he thought telling Harry so would help anything, not without proof. “You were understandably preoccupied with Voldemort and surviving,” he pointed out instead.

“Maybe.” Harry didn’t sound completely convinced. “But what do you say? Will you marry me?”

“I’m not opposed,” he said slowly, “but have you considered the logistics?”

“Like what?”

“Well, like family name. We’re both the last of our line. So would we go with Potter? Longbottom? A combination?”

Harry paused and considered it. Neville was relieved to see that he seemed to be calming down when he realized he was taking him serious. “How would this normally go between two wizards? Or two witches, I guess.”

Neville lowered himself to one knee, settling in for the conversation. “Normally the older, more politically powerful family takes precedence. Though the spouses can decide otherwise, like Zabini and Malfoy did. Malfoy is the older family name here in Britain.”

“But it has a history now, a bad reputation.”

Neville nodded. “They might pass the title to a second child or grandchild, but it sent a message that he gave the name up.”

“Which is the older between our families?”

“They were considered pretty much equal in our parents’ generation. Longbottom is slightly older, but Potter is related to the Peverell line, so that’s a more recent prominent line.” He gave Harry an apologetic look. “And then there’s your being the Boy-Who-Lived.”

Harry grimaced at the reminder of his hated fame, as he’d expected. “You faced Voldemort as well. And killed one of his horcruxes.”

It was his turn to grimace. “I know. But you struck the final blow.” Not that he was interested in fighting with Harry over which of them deserved more fame. They both would be all too happy without any. “The general public would expect us to go with Potter, but Longbottom-Potter or Potter-Longbottom would be perfectly acceptable.”

“Longbottom-Potter,” Harry said. He smiled slightly. “Moves me up the alphabetical list.”

Neville huffed a laugh. “Alright. Then, children. We would be expected have at least one child for each title we can pass on. So a minimum of three, one for Longbottom, one for Potter and one for Black.” He frowned, trying to remember the history of each line. “I think they’re all based on absolute primogeniture, so the children’s gender won’t matter.”

“I like the idea of a big family,” Harry admitted. “If you don’t mind?”

He shook his head. “No, same.” Growing up, he’d always dreamed of having a big family, of living with parents and siblings. He wouldn’t be surprised if Harry had as well. “Though we’d need an assessment from healers that we’re powerful enough to create multiple children in ritual. But we’ll also have to decide on the order of inheritance, decide which title our firstborn will inherit.”

“Longbottom,” Harry said at once.

“Harry...”

“No, I’m… I’m only just starting to learn about my family history. The books your grandmother and Gringotts sent are helping but I wouldn’t know where to start. Not yet. And we’d be expected to have our first child soon, right?”

Neville shrugged. “It is why the Ministry is encouraging marriages,” he conceded. They might not have come out and said so, but it was clear what their aim was. “But they have no control over if and when the couples have children. So if we want to wait a few years, that’s our choice.”

“Perhaps for a year or two, but I... I’d like...”

“Starting a family wouldn’t be a hardship?” Neville offered.

Harry looked relieved. “Right. That. So, what do you say?”

“Okay, let’s go see a healer during our next Hogwarts weekend. If they say we can have children, we’ll get married.” Marrying a friend would be far preferable to marrying a stranger, or one of the other students who were interested in marrying them for their money.

“Is there a healer at Hogsmeade?” Harry asked. “I never noticed one.”

“There isn’t, but we aren’t required to stay at Hogsmeade.” He lowered his voice conspiringly. “My grandma said they keep it quiet before students start their seventh year, but if once you’re of age, you’re theoretically allowed to come and go as you like, outside of lessons and other official school activities.”

“So we can just apparate to London? Or somewhere else?”

“Yes. Though it will be easiest for us to go to London, to go to Gringotts. They have healers and lawyers on retainer, with iron clad contracts that will prevent them from passing on information. The details of our marriage are no one’s business but ours.” And his grandmother’s, granted, as his only remaining close relative.

“Can we invite Hermione along? And Luna?” Harry asked. “I’m fine not having a big ceremony, but I’d like to have them there.”

“Of course. And also Susan Bones, if you don’t mind.” He did not think they’d take it well if they didn’t. “Shall I make an appointment for the next weekend?” It was only three days away, but for once their fame and titles would work in their favour.

“Let’s do it.”

~*~

“You’re what?” Hermione demanded.

They had asked the three girls to an empty classroom shortly before dinner to tell them of their plans and to invite them to come. Neville barely managed to keep from fidgeting at the disbelieving looks Hermione and Susan were giving them. He clasped his hands behind his back to make it easier on himself.

Harry looked determined, like he’d often looked when he went off to face the Dark Lord’s or Dumbledore’s plans. Neville wondered if he should feel insulted that their marriage caused the same expression. “You said it yourself, we won’t get any peace until we’re married. Why shouldn’t we marry one another?”

Hermione was actually speechless for a moment. “I know people are annoying, but are you sure you want to marry at once? Perhaps an engagement would be enough already?”

“Some of them would take that as a challenge,” Susan pointed out. Not that she sounded happy about it. “You’re really certain?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Luna said. She looked between the two of them, a sweet smile on her lips.

“Thank you, Luna,” Harry said, sounding relieved at the support.

“Yes, thanks,” he agreed.

“And we’ll come with you, of course,” Luna said.

“Yes, if you’re certain, of course we’ll attend your wedding,” Hermione said.

Susan nodded as well. “When is it?”

“Hopefully this Saturday,” Neville answered. “I’ll tell you the exact time when I have the reply from Gringotts. Do you want to apparate to London with us and go to Diagon Alley while we deal with the preliminaries, or do you want to join us later?”

“I’ll ask Hannah. If you’re okay with one more guest?”

Neville looked to Harry, waiting for his reaction, but he only shrugged. “Fine with us.” He looked to Hermione and Luna. “Do either of you want to bring a guest?” Luna currently wasn’t seeing anyone, as far as he knew, but Hermione might want to use the opportunity to see Krum.

“No, that’s fine,” Hermione answered while Luna just shook her head.

“Then we’ll see about that appointment after dinner and get back to you.”

~*~

Susan and Hermione turned to look at Luna when the two boys had left the room.

“You think it’s a good idea?” Hermione demanded. She waved a hand towards the door, the direction their friends had gone. “He’s... He will...”

Luna’s smile deepened. “Yes.”

Susan froze and scrutinized her expression. “You mean... Oh. Oh!”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked.

~*~

As he’d expected, they were able to get appointments on short notice. They all flooed to Gringotts at quarter to 2, well in time for their preliminary meeting. He and Harry were directed to the meeting room that had been set up for their needs, while the girls went out into Diagon Alley.

An older wizard in healers’ robes was already waiting for them when they entered the room. He regarded them, eyebrow raised. “Well, this will certainly be a brief appointment,” he said drily.

“Healer Silverberry, these are Lord Neville Longbottom and Heir Harry Potter,” Nurluk, their dwerger guide, introduced. “Lord Longbottom, Heir Potter, Healer Morgan Silverberry, one of the healers in our employ.”

Neville frowned at the reminder that Harry was currently still only heir. “Should Harry claim his title first?”

Silverberry waved him off. “That’s not necessary. The two of you are certainly powerful enough to conceive children in ritual, even without the additional push of another title.” He nodded to Neville. “Especially if you use one of the rituals connected to plants and nature, considering your affinity for it.”

They exchanged a startled look. “You do not need to cast any diagnosis spells first?” Harry asked.

“Not at your power level. I only need a spell to determine if there are any other circumstances that might prevent successful conception.” Silverberry pulled out his wand. “If you’d please take two steps away from one another?”

They did so, though Neville could see how tense Harry held himself. Not a surprise, really. He was certain this was the first stranger to have pointed their wand at him since the war. “I’ll go first,” he said. Hopefully seeing the spell used on him would help Harry relax. He wasn’t exactly unconcerned with having a stranger use a spell on him, but a healer employed by Gringotts would not attack a Lord of Lady in the bank on official business. The reprisal from the Horde would be swift, if the violation of healer and employee oaths wouldn’t get to them first.

“I would suggest waiting at least a year with the first ritual to give your magic more time to settle after the war and assuming your title, but there is nothing preventing a successful conception,” Silverberry said. “Not that a ritual would fail now, but it would mean passing on less of the trauma of the war to the child.” Then he turned his attention to Harry, but Neville was pleased to see that he waited for Harry’s nod before he started casting. “No issue here either, though in your case I very strongly suggest waiting. And perhaps a cleansing ritual and therapy first.”

“Thank you, Healer Silverberry, for your time,” Neville said. “And your suggestions.” He might reach out to him later for referrals for therapy. They could probably both use it.

“I will call for both of your account managers and Master Sutton,” Nurluk said.

“Sutton?” Harry asked when Silverberry and Nurluk had left.

“She’s one of partners of the law firm the Longbottom family has been using traditionally. I’m not sure which firm the Potters and Blacks used.” But considering the lack of support Harry and his godfather had had, they’d likely either been killed off during either war or should be replaced due to dereliction of duty. “We’ve already agreed on what our marriage contract should say, but she can make sure the contract is airtight and can’t be challenged by anyone apart from us.” Like the Ministry or some wix irritated at not getting to marry either of them.

Harry grimaced. “That won’t take until 4, will it?”

Neville laughed. “No, I doubt it will take very long.”

Harry was relieved to find that Neville was right. Sutton had come prepared with a standard contract, which already included the points he and Neville had agreed on, like the number of children and name upon marriage. It seemed Neville had passed it along. What had taken the longest had been Neville and Sutton explaining the contract to him. It had left him even more relieved that he was marrying Neville. He hadn’t even considered a marriage contract, never mind clauses protecting their inheritances and either family’s properties and fortunes.

At half past 3, Neville’s grandmother swept into the room. “Ah, Neville, Harry, has everything been settled?”

“Yes, grandmother,” Neville said. He stood and went to greet her. “Good afternoon.”

Harry followed his example and stood as well. “Good afternoon, Lady Longbottom.”

“You may call me Augusta, Harry, considering you will be joining our family soon.” She looked them over critically. “Then it is high time you are getting ready for the wedding.”

“Grandmother?” Neville asked. Harry was relieved that he wasn’t the only one confused. They had arrived dressed in formal robes, so what more was required.

“I have brought traditional Longbottom wedding robes for you, Neville,” she said and passed him a bundle of clothes. Something in her face seemed to soften, though Harry could not quite tell what it was that gave him the impression. “Your grandfather’s. Ellis has adjusted them to fit you.” She turned to him then and offered him a bundle as well. “I took the liberty of ordering Potter wedding robes for you, Harry.”

He swallowed hard. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.” This was not a real wedding. Or at least not a marriage out of love, it was real enough in the legal sense, as he’d been reminded during the past hour and a half.

“Nonsense. It is your wedding. The ceremony might be small but that doesn’t mean that only the reception will require proper attire.”

Harry wondered at the grimace he saw Neville quickly hide at her words, but before he could ask, she said: “Now, go on, get ready.”

“Come on, we’ll use the bathroom nearby,” Neville said.

“What was that just now? Your reaction at the end, I mean,” Harry asked when they had left the room.

Neville sighed. “The reminder that we will be expected to hold a reception for prominent members of society. Not now, but either during the winter holidays or next summer. Both dates have their advantages and disadvantages, but we can discuss this later.” He smiled at him. “For now, we’re getting married.”

They really were. It hadn’t seemed real. Even with all their school mates already married or planning their own weddings, it felt strange to be getting married already. He barely felt like an adult.

He stepped into one of the toilet stalls to change robes. They were not too complicated, much to his relief, but the fabric was both heavier and yet softer than what he was used to. He folded his formal robes, then came out to look at himself. When he had imagined getting married as a child, he’d expected to be wearing a black suit, not dark red robes. He turned from side to side, admiring the black and gold embroidery throughout. Now that he thought about it, he remembered his father wearing something similar on some of the wedding pictures. His father. He had been of a similar age when he had got married, hadn’t he? Even during the war, they’d had a big wedding party, so much different than his wedding now. There’d been a number of friends there. There had been both their parents present.

“Harry?”

He started, then saw Neville in the mirror. His robes were a dark, forest-green, with the embroidery in black and a light green. Slightly darker lapel exaggerated his shoulders.

“It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind,” Neville offered softly.

He quickly shook his head. “No, I haven’t. Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

“What about?”

“These look like the ones my father wore to his wedding.”

Neville silently watched him through the mirror for a moment, then said: “When I was a child, I always dreamed about a big wedding like my parents had, with all the family there. With my parents there.” His lips twisted. “It took me a long time to accept that my parents would never be able to attend my wedding. And that it’s not the kind of wedding I would enjoy.”

Harry had to close his eyes to block out everything. He had forgot that Neville could relate and would be able to guess what he meant. He felt Neville step closer, then touch his shoulder lightly, wordlessly asking him to turn around. He turned, opening his eyes to face Neville directly now.

Neville smiled sadly and spread his arms, offering a hug. Still, he didn’t move until Harry nodded, then he closed the distance between them.

Harry’s eyes slid closed again as he returned the hug. It felt... nice. Safe and calm. This wasn’t the kind of backslapping hugs the Quidditch team had exchanged or the awkward hugs from Mrs Weasley, where he never knew what to do and how to react. It was a bit like Hermione’s hugs, undemanding, warm but light enough that he knew he could pull back whenever he wanted. And yet, knowing that Neville understood, to a degree he wasn’t used to, made this feel... more somehow. More intimate.

They pulled back at the same time. “Right, let’s not keep them waiting,” Harry said.

~*~

The girls had arrived in the meantime. Harry was surprised to see that they had changed as well and had done their hair and makeup. The ceremony itself was brief and rather business-like, more like he imagined a business agreement to be than a wedding.

And yet Hermione was right there afterwards to congratulate them, offering each of them a brief hug.

“You got changed,” Harry couldn’t help but say.

“Of course. It’s my best friend’s wedding.”

“Quite right, Ms Granger,” Augusta agreed. “You’ll want to look your best on the pictures.”

Harry blinked. “What pictures?” She hadn’t brought a reporter, had she?

“Why, your wedding pictures, of course.” She regarded them, then said quietly: “Your children should have pictures of you, of your wedding.”

Harry could practically hear the ‘in case something happens’. The war was over, but it seemed he was not the only one who had a hard time believing it. And the Longbottoms had even more reason to doubt it, given what had happened seventeen years ago. He was not really surprised, therefore, when he felt Neville’s hand slip into his and squeeze.

“Where should we stand?” he asked.

~*~

They apparated back to Hogsmeade after taking pictures, with promises to Augusta to write regularly. Luna, Susan and Hannah said their goodbyes in Hogsmeade, so Hermione, Harry and Neville made their way back to the castle on their own.

“What did Professor McGonagall say when your things will be moved?” Hermione asked.

“Moved?” Harry asked.

“You’re married now, so you will have a room together, just like Dean and Seamus,” she pointed out.

Harry stopped walking. He had not considered that. He and Neville had discussed where they’d live after graduation, but they had not talked about living together at Hogwarts. And what about Ron? Their dorm had already been reduced in size, to make space for a room for Dean and Seamus. Would he have a room for himself now? That might go at least a little way to distract him.

“They will probably change the rooms during dinner,” Neville said. “Similar to how the school trunks are moved during the welcoming feast. And, well, we are used to sharing a room, it will just mean no longer having to put up spells to keep out Ron’s snoring.”

“True.” They had been sharing a dorm for years now and there had never been issues between them. In fact, Neville might be the easiest of his dorm mates to share with. He didn’t snore loudly, he respected his space and belongings and didn’t mind if he didn’t feel like talking. “But perhaps we should check with McGonagall before dinner?”

Neville nodded. “Let’s see if she’s in the great hall already.”

They didn’t have to go that far. When they got within sight of the castle, they saw her sitting on a bench in front of the castle with Madame Pomfrey.

“Professor,” they chorused.

“Ms Granger,” she replied, then stopped and looked to him and Neville. “I take it the wedding took place as planned?”

“Yes, professor. We have decided to go with Longbottom-Potter.”

She smiled and inclined her head. “Congratulations, Misters Longbottom-Potter.”

Madame Pomfrey smiled as well. “Yes, congratulations.”

“We wanted to ask, about the dorm,” Harry said.

“I will inform the house elves and they will rearrange the dorm accordingly. Mr Weasley will be moved into the 7^th year dorm, and you will have a room beside Misters Finnegan’s.”

Harry winced. Ron was not going to take that well.

“As it is a room within Gryffindor, the door will require no password.” She gave them a stern look. “I would also like to remind you that the doors to the rooms are not very thick, so I suggest using the noise muffling spell favoured by the Quidditch team. I do not wish to hear of you keeping your housemates up.”

Harry was still trying to understand what she meant when Neville, blushing furiously, assured her: “We will, thank you, professor.”

“Which spell do you mean?” he asked. There were no spells used during games, never mind a noise muffling one. He startled when Neville let out a strangled sound and turned to his friend. Neville was avoiding looking at them all, though.

McGonagall was regarding him, one eyebrow raised, though she seemed amused. “I see you have missed the Gryffindor Quidditch orgies.”

He stared at her, certain that he must be imagining things. His professor couldn’t have... have mentioned...

“We have to get changed for dinner,” Hermione said. She grabbed his arm and Neville’s and dragged them inside.

“She was joking, wasn’t she?” he asked.

“No. No, she wasn’t,” Neville said. “The twins were rather shameless about it. And Wood and Flint liked to meet up... afterwards.”

They had... And who had...? Just the team? Just the Gryffindor team? Wait, did Neville expect... “You don’t think I...”

“No, we realise that you didn’t know,” Hermione said.

~*~

When they went back down for dinner, Harry took his now customary seat between Neville and Hermione, with Ron and Ginny across from them. The official announcement of his marriage would be in the papers tomorrow, but at least those in his year and house should probably learn about it in person. Ron should learn about it before he was presented with the change in where he’d be sleeping.

So, when Dean asked everyone: “What were you up to today?”, Harry answered: “Getting married.” He didn’t look around, but he could tell that most of their table had fallen silent, as had the neighbouring Hufflepuff table.

“What?” Ron demanded.

“Harry and I got married today,” Neville said.

“To whom?” Ginny demanded.

“To each other, of course,” Hermione said. She sounded like she was rolling her eyes, but Harry didn’t turn to her to check.

“Congratulations, guys,” Seamus said over Ginny’s sputtering. Their other housemates echoed him with their own well wishes.

“You didn’t say anything!” Lavender protested. “Did you have a big ceremony?”

“No, we just had a small ceremony at Gringotts,” Harry replied.

Lavender and Parvati cooed at them. “Oh Merlin, did you elope?” Lavender asked, sounding delighted.

“No,” Harry denied. Why would they need to elope? The Dursleys no longer had a say in his life and he didn’t care enough about their opinion to let it influence his decisions. Their marriage was politically sensible enough that Augusta Longbottom approved.

“A small ceremony is enough,” Seamus agreed. He gave Dean a besotted look. “What matters is getting to call them your husband.”

Lavender and Parvati sighed. “That’s so romantic,” Parvati said.

“We’re celebrating, right?” Fay asked.

“Of course,” Seamus agreed. After a beat, he turned to Harry and Neville. “Right?”

“Right.” Not that they had much of a choice, as he knew from the aftermath of Quidditch matches. Though it seemed he had missed part of those celebrations.

“Don’t worry, we won’t keep you too long from your wedding night,” Seamus assured them.

“Are we celebrating just in house?” Colin asked.

“Oh? Are you thinking of inviting someone in particular?” Dean asked.

“You might have chances with Michael Corner, if the trend holds,” Lavender said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ginny hissed.

Harry let their words wash over him, tuning out their words, just like the whispers that were spreading. He caught Neville’s gaze, and they shared a smile. That hadn’t gone too badly. They’d get through the party as well.

~*~

They stumbled up the stairs to their room. They weren’t drunk, as they had not had much alcohol at the party, but keyed up from the atmosphere. Their housemates had jumped at the opportunity to celebrate together and many were still going strong. As fun as it had been, it had reached the point where it got too much for Harry. Fortunately for him Neville had agreed, and they’d used the excuse of their wedding night to turn in early.

When they reached where the door to their dorm had been, they instead found two doors on either side of a small landing, one with a sign saying ‘Finnegan’, the other saying ‘Longbottom-Potter’. When Neville motioned him to go first, Harry opened the door with their names and stepped through. It was a nice little room, with a long desk in front of the window and another door leading out, probably to a bathroom. The bed had the usual red curtain as the beds in their dorm had had, though it was bigger than the ones in the dorm.

He stopped short. “Oh.” The one double bed. They were married, so of course they would be expected to be sharing a bed.

“Ah.” Neville was also staring at the bed. “We should have probably expected this.”

“Right.” Harry cleared his throat, then admitted: “I’ve never shared a bed.” A room or tent, yes, but he’d never slept that close to another person, not as far as he could remember, at least.

“I shared a bed with Seamus last year, for comfort.”

Harry slowly turned his head to stare at him. “What?” His imagination was suddenly presenting him with pictures of the two of them, laying in bed and kissing and... He forcefully pushed the thought away, but his mind was still whirling. Had it been serious? Were there feelings involved? Perhaps still? Did Neville -?

“Oh, no! Not like that!” Neville hurriedly said. “We just slept. Actually slept.” He shrugged. “With everything going on at Hogwarts last year, with our not knowing where you, Dean and Ron were...” He fell silent for a moment, then added softly: “It was good to have a reminder that we weren’t alone.”

“I get it.” He had planned to go alone at first but in the end he was grateful that he’d had Hermione and Ron with him.

“Let’s see how sharing a bed goes,” Neville suggested. “It looks big enough that we’ll each have space.”

It truly did. It was bigger than his cupboard had been, more than twice the size of the bed he’d later had at the Dursleys.

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?”

“It’s fine, you can go first.” It gave him a moment alone to look around the room, to let it really sink in that he was married now.

He waited for Neville to grab his sleep clothes and go into the bathroom, then went to sit at the desk and looked around. There was no room for a second bed, not with the size of the one in the room right now. If they really couldn’t share the bed, perhaps they could transfigure it into two singles? It would also make it easier to spell the bed to block sound, in case he had another nightmare. He had had a few whenever anyone cast magic or passed to closely by the rooms he’d been staying in over the summer. It had taken him a while to figure out how to keep from being woken.

“Have you picked a side?”

Harry blinked, startled out of his thoughts. He hadn’t heard Neville come back in. “No, you can pick.” He did a double take when he caught sight of Neville. It hadn’t been just the cut of his robes earlier that made his shoulders seem so broad. The thought was unexpected. He’d never really paid attention before to how Neville or any of the other guys looked when not wearing the baggy school robes, but he was suddenly struck by how much Neville had changed and grown since they’d met as first years. He quickly grabbed his own things. “I’ll be right back.”

Neville stretched languidly, then opened his eyes slowly. Judging from the light coming in through the window, it was rather early still, but he felt well rested. More well rested than he had expected, really. He had been struggling to sleep through the night since the Death Eaters had taken Hogwarts. It wasn’t always nightmares, or if it was, then he didn’t always remember, but he rarely slept through the night.

He turned on his side to look at Harry. He smiled when he saw that he was still sleeping peacefully. He had been hoping that, with Voldemort gone, Harry would no longer be plagued by visions. Part of the reason he had accepted Harry’s suggestion had been that he’d hated to see how Harry had been growing more haunted again the more other students had pushed and followed him. After saving them all from the Dark Lord, Harry deserved better than to be pushed and pressured to conform to what others wanted from him. If he could serve as shield against them, then he’d gladly do so.

Harry started shifting as well slowly. Neville watched as his eyes opened and he looked around. “Hey,” he said softly. “Sleep well?”

“I did,” Harry replied. He sounded surprised. “And you?”

“Me as well.” He looked to the window again. “It’s early yet, but we could go down for breakfast already, if you like?”

“You mean before everyone gets up and we’re ambushed at breakfast?”

Neville just shrugged. It’s not that he was very hungry, he rarely was in the morning, but he’d rather enjoy a quiet morning. He doubted anyone would expect them so early.

“Sounds good. We can finish before the majority will be up.”

Hopefully they would be gone from the hall before Ron got up. Neville did not think that he would be too happy following the first night after being moved into the dorm of those younger than them.

They got dressed and made their way down in companionable silence.

~*~

The tables were still mostly empty, as expected. Many students used the opportunity on a Sunday to sleep in. Most of Gryffindor seemed to be still sleeping off the party. It allowed them to choose their seats more freely and to serve themselves quickly.

“What are your plans for today?” Neville asked after they’d filled their plates and taken the first few bites.

Harry looked up at the enchanted ceiling. It was a clear blue sky this morning, with just a few small clouds. “I don’t have definite plans yet, but it looks like nice weather to go flying.”

Neville couldn’t help but grimace. He still didn’t enjoy flying or heights. It reminded him too much of that time his Uncle Algie had held him out the window and he’d fallen. His fall during their first flying lesson hadn’t helped matters. Still, he knew Harry enjoyed it.

“But we don’t have to,” Harry said hurriedly, so he had probably noticed his reaction. “What do you want to do?”

“Normally I’d go to the greenhouses.” Harry didn’t look too happy with the option. Neville knew he didn’t enjoy Herbology the way he did. “It does look to be nice outside. How about I join you and read or something while you’re flying?”

Harry smiled hesitantly. He didn’t reply at once but seemed to be waiting for something. Finally he said: “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“Let’s just take the long way up to the tower.” Hopefully then most of their housemates would have left already.

~*~

Neville placed the bookmark between the pages to mark his place, then leaned back on the bench. It was near the Quidditch pitch, where they had picked up Harry’s flying gloves. Neville tilted his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sunshine on his face. It was slowly turning from summer to fall, with more and more days being overcast, so he was glad to take advantage of the weather. He opened his eyes again and looked around, trying to spot Harry. He might not enjoy flying himself, but watching a talented flyer like Harry was a pleasure. As Harry was coming closer again, Neville was also pleased to see that he was looking far more relaxed than he’d been these past weeks. When he was close enough to hear him, he smiled at him and asked: “Enjoy your flight?”

Harry didn’t answer at once but just looked at him. Then he suddenly shook his head and replied: “Yes. Thanks.” He pointed at the books beside him. “What about you? Enjoy your book?”

“I do. I’m glad Professor Sprout suggested it.” He patted the book lightly. “Actually, it gave me an idea for something to try with water plants native to Scotland. Do you want to come with me to the lake?”

“Why not.” Harry landed and shouldered his broom.

Neville put his book away and they started towards the lake. There were some other students around, but they kept their distance. The difference to the past weeks was striking. Before their wedding, they wouldn’t have been able to walk around in peace. Others would have invited themselves along, vying for their attention.

He noticed that Harry was intently staring towards the lake. Following his gaze, he noticed that they were not the only ones who’d had the idea. Blaise and Draco Zabini were walking hand in hand along the shore. He wasn’t sure what about it held his attention, though. “Harry?”

“What?” He started and turned to him. “Ah... Your book, is it related to one of our last lessons?”

Neville frowned at the awkward change of topic but decided to go along with it. “No, Professor Sprout suggested it when we were talking about my options for an apprenticeship and potential projects for my mastery.”

“So you’ve decided on herbology?”

“Yes. I will likely not have the time to completely devote myself to it, but it will be helpful when I take over leading my family’s business. What about you?”

“I’m still not sure. We mainly discussed my becoming an Auror during career advice.” Harry paused, then admitted: “I think both McGonagall and I insisted on it to spite Umbridge.”

Neville snorted. “Understandably.” She’d been by far their worst DADA teacher. He’d even take Crouch over her.

“I just don’t know what I want to do. I don’t even know what I can do.”

“You have time to decide. Either of our families is wealthy enough that we don’t need to work.” Never mind their combined finances. He usually didn’t see any reason to bring up his family’s financial situation – he wondered sometimes that Narcissa Malfoy tolerated such uncouth behaviour from her son – but Harry deserved to pursue a career which would make him happy, even if it meant taking time. “There are different things you can do. Like developing new brooms, or something with charms or transfiguration.” After all DADA was hardly the only subject Harry excelled in.

“Perhaps.” At least Harry sounded intrigued.

“I could ask Professor Sprout if she’d do another career advice meeting with you,” he offered. Moore, the new transfigurations teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was too unknown for any of the eighth years to feel comfortable seeking out outside the lessons.

“Why her?” Harry asked, then quickly added: “Nothing against her, but why not Flitwick, for example?”

“I think she’ll be the most impartial. Professor Flitwick was going to work with your mother on her mastery in Charms. Professor Slughorn...” he trailed off. How best to put that he would be more interested in pushing Harry down a path that would reflect best on Slughorn? Fortunately Harry was already nodding in agreement.

“If she has the time, I would appreciate it.”

“I’ll ask her.” He was certain she would agree, both for his sake and as a favour to Harry.

“Well, well, well.” Arms wrapped around his and Harry’s shoulders. “Are you lovebirds enjoying the day?”

“George, Fred, what are you doing here?” Harry asked.

A glance to the side showed Neville that it was Fred who was leaning against their shoulders while George was standing a step behind them, both grinning playfully.

“Really, now, Harrykins,” George said.

“We had to come and congratulate you,” Fred continued.

“Did you come to Hogsmeade as soon as you read the newspaper?” Neville knew that the announcement had been in today’s paper, but he hadn’t expected people outside of Hogwarts to react this quickly.

“Oh no. We heard about it from Ginny.”

“She wrote Mum.”

Neville winced. Of course she had.

“So you’re here to see her?” Harry asked.

“Nope. We’re here to view a shop we’re thinking of renting and to wish our investor all the best.”

“Even if it was too spontaneous for him to invite us.”

Neville could hear the unspoken question. He glanced at Harry, waiting for him to decide what to tell them. With their current housemates, they’d let them assume what they wanted.

“It was a spontaneous decision,” Harry agreed. “We just couldn’t wait.”

He wasn’t wrong, they had been eager to be left alone.

The twins shook their heads. “That eager to break hearts by removing two of the most eligible bachelors from the running?”

Neville smiled slightly at their exaggeration. While he had been one of the last single heirs at Hogwarts, that hadn’t been through for wizarding society as a whole, so he could have hardly been counted among the most eligible bachelors, title or no title. Not like Harry.

“But I am sorry we didn’t think to ask if you wanted to come,” Harry said.

“I guess we were rather distracted,” he agreed.

“Then you can treat us to lunch as apology,” George said.

“Are you missing the food at Hogwarts that much?” Harry teased.

“We were thinking at Hogsmeade,” Fred said.

“You can tell us what you think about the property we’re viewing.”

“Are you moving or expanding?” Neville asked.

“Expanding. We’re earning quite well with our shop, and the orders from the Ministry.”

“Expanding to Hogsmeade will give us more students as customers.”

“Then let’s see that shop.”

Harry stood up, unable to stay still. He could feel the gazes of their study group on him. They were supposed to be working on their homework or his paperwork from Gringotts, but he couldn’t concentrate.

“Harry?” Neville asked. He half rose from his chair, looking about to follow him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” He shouldn’t be burdening them. He took a deep breath, then forced himself to sit back down.

“Harry.” Hermione sounded disapproving. She clearly didn’t believe him.

Neville reached out and rested his hand on his wrist. “Hey, you can tell us,” he encouraged gently. “We’re willing to listen.”

He glanced at the others at the table. Before Neville had brought him along, he’d rarely had contact with them. Their study meetings hadn’t been unpleasant and they had been kind when Hermione had asked to join, but he was still hesitant to open up in front of them. “It’s just... it’s almost Halloween.” Halloween, the day something always seemed to go wrong for him. Halloween, the day his parents died. “I’m not...I haven’t had the best of luck with it.”

“I don’t think Professor McGonagall will have the kind of Halloween feast we had before,” Hermione said. “Most students have lost someone. Grandparents or...” Friends, siblings, far too many people had been lost to Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

“The party was to celebrate what everyone thought was the victory over Voldemort,” Susan said. “He’s really beaten now, but having a party would be in bad taste for the new ghosts, especially so soon.”

“New ghosts?” Harry looked to Neville and Hermione, but they seemed just as confused.

“With the number of deaths that occurred here earlier this year, Hogwarts got some new ghosts,” Susan said matter-of-factly. “They’re keeping away from the students for now.”

“Not surprising,” Greengrass said. “It must be strange to interact with one’s classmates as a ghost.”

“Myrtle has been helping them adapt,” Hannah said.

“There will be a special dinner, but Professor Sprout already told us that attendance isn’t mandatory,” Susan added.

“We could have dinner in our room,” Neville suggested. “And, if you like, you can join me for my remembrance ritual?”

“You don’t have to.” Harry glanced to the other students from different houses. He didn’t want him to feel obligated to share, just because they were married. “If you’d rather have privacy for your ritual...”

Neville smiled at him. “I don’t mind.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile back. “If you really don’t mind.”

“You’re disgustingly sweet,” Greengrass said.

Harry startled at the interruption and looked away from Neville.

“Daph,” her fiancée chided.

“I didn’t say it’s a bad thing,” she defended herself. “Just unexpected.”

“It’s fine, we’re not insulted,” Neville said. He squeezed Harry’s wrist again, making him aware that they hadn’t stopped touching since Neville had reached out to him. “I guess we are... usually more private.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Davis said. “The interest in your lives, especially Potter’s, is obscene.”

It was still a nice surprise to hear others agree with his thoughts on that matter, even after weeks of meeting the other members of the study group.

“It’s still strange to me that Gryffindor doesn’t have an in-house ritual, like the other houses,” Hannah said.

“Perhaps not that surprising. Previous Gryffindor Heads of Houses have argued against them, claiming it would alienate Muggleborn,” Greengrass argued.

“You mean Dumbledore?” Hermione asked bluntly.

Greengrass shrugged but didn’t deny it.

It still felt strange to hear this calm criticism of Dumbledore and his actions. It wasn’t just pureblood supremacists criticising him either. Some of the changes at Hogwarts were also clearly things the staff had been waiting to implement.

“Do you still want to join me?”

Harry looked up from his book at Neville’s question. He was still working his way through the stack of books Neville and Augusta Longbottom had supplied him with to get him caught and had decided to use his free time this Saturday to try and make headway. He glanced out of the window. Had he lost track of time? It did not seem like it. It was still light outside, though it was overcast. “Isn’t it early for dinner?”

“It is. Part of my rituals is going for a walk, weather permitting.”

Harry looked down at the book. He’d found that he enjoyed reading and learning more about the wizarding world, especially if he could go at his own speed and without the pressure of grades or life or death situations. But he’d also enjoyed going out with Neville and sharing in what he enjoyed. Neville didn’t expect him to be interested in the same things, he seemed perfectly happy just to offer to share his excitement if they came across anything interesting for herbology. “Let me just grab a warmer cloak.” The normal school robe was still warm enough for sitting around in the common room, but he’d need something more for going out.

“Take your time, I’m in no hurry.”

Still, he didn’t want to keep him waiting, so he quickly put the book back on his bedside table and took his cloak from the hook near the door. “Do you have a route in mind?” Harry asked as they made their way down the stairs.

“No, I pick at random each year.” Neville paused when they reached the entrance hall. “Want to pass by the Quidditch pitch?”

He appreciated the offer, but he knew the Gryffindor team was training right now and he didn’t need another attempt from Ron and Ginny to convince him to join. “No, let’s go past the greenhouses. Perhaps see Hagrid?”

“Sure.” They were silent as they walked around the busier area right in front of the castle. When they had almost reached the greenhouses, Neville started speaking quietly: “Going for a walk, or at least going outside, is traditional in many families. We gather things that catch our attention as we go. But going for a walk here, at Hogwarts, is different for me.”

Harry turned his head slightly to look at him when he fell silent briefly. Neville seemed thoughtful and sad.

“This is where my parents met. Where they became who they were.” His lips twitched. “Not like they had time to afterwards, with the war going on.”

Harry looked around, trying to imagine his own parents. He had seen them in their fifth year in Snape’s memories, but it had just been a snapshot. It had also left him with more questions. They had told him that his father had changed, but how and when? How had his parents got together? What would they think about his political marriage? Neville was a good friend, a good husband, so they would not have had a reason to disapprove there, but he had no idea how they would have taken his decision. He wondered how Neville’s parents would have taken it. “Were your parents both Gryffindors? I know you mentioned your father was.”

“My mother was a Hufflepuff.”

“Is that why you have so much contact with Sprout?” Was it similar to how Remus had given him additional lessons in their third year?

“In part, perhaps, but part of it is also that I am interested in herbology and was looking for ways to spend time in the greenhouses outside of lessons.”

“Did your parents start dating at Hogwarts?”

“They started dating in their fifth year.” Neville shrugged. “Not that unusual. Many find their future spouse at Hogwarts.”

“I hadn’t given it any thought before the Ministry pushed for it.”

“You had other things on your mind these previous years.” Which was a nice euphemism for him being too busy trying to survive to think about marriage. “Pureblood families also ... encourage thinking about suitable spouses at Hogwarts, since it’s where we are most likely to meet other wix our age.”

“Did you have someone in mind... before?” Had they died in the war? Had they chosen someone else? When Neville didn’t reply, he quickly said: “You don’t have to -”

“There were some I thought about, but I had not figured out yet who I might approach. Who might have been interested in me.”

Harry nodded. So many had been interested in his fame and money, not in him as a person. Neville hadn’t been famous before, but he had been rich already, from what he’d learned in the meantime, but it had likely been similar. And he deserved someone who cared about him, not just what he could give them. Neville was a great friend, and husband, he deserved a good spouse. He wondered who had drawn his attention before. What were things Neville found attractive in a partner?

They were getting closer to Hagrid’s hut.

“Did you want to say hello to Hagrid?” Neville asked.

Harry considered it. He liked visiting Hagrid, but he also enjoyed this, being alone with Neville and sharing stories. “Perhaps we could go and see him tomorrow?” he suggested instead. “It’s not long until dinner.”

“Then let’s go back to our room.” He smiled. “With the advantages of a shared room, I’m surprised there weren’t more married couples in their seventh year before the war.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did Hermione never share stories about her perfect rounds?”

“No?” What did he mean?

“Susan told me some stories, and Professor Sprout mentioned a few about my parents.”

As they walked back towards the castle, Neville shared some of those stories. Harry wondered if there were similar stories about his own parents. Perhaps some of the teachers would be able to tell him?

When they reached their room, Harry took a moment to take in the set-up. The house elves had set up a small table in the middle of the room, with a crisp white tablecloth and a candle holder in the centre. Then he stopped when he realized that three places were set. “Is someone else joining us?” He’d understood that it would be just the two of them. They hadn’t had visitors in their room before and he wasn’t sure how he felt about having dinner with someone else here.

“Not exactly. An additional place is set to symbolize those we have lost, those who can’t be with us.” Neville held up the bits and pieces he’d picked up during their walk. “Help me decorate the table?”

They worked in companionable silence, arranging their finds, then sat down to eat. Harry was happy to see that, while there were some sweets for dessert, the dinner was less heavy or sweet than the usual feasts. He glanced up at Neville and found him already looking at him. Neville smiled and he couldn’t help but smile back. It was also nice how much quieter it was than the busy great hall. Harry wondered if they would be able to have meals in private more often.

“Now what?” Harry asked when they’d finished their meals and the house elves had whisked away their plates.

“Now we remember. We leave room for those we’ve lost, to remember them and to open ourselves to them.” Neville shrugged. “There are accounts of wix who have spoken to their loved lost ones during it, or who have at least felt their presence. I’ve never heard anything, but... I’ve felt it.”

“How do we do this?”

Neville placed his hands on the table, palm up. Harry looked from his hands to his face. He was not sure he understood what he expected from him. When Neville wiggled his fingers, he slowly reached out. Neville didn’t pull his hands back, so he placed his hands on Neville’s. Neville took hold of his hands and brushed his thumbs across his knuckles.

“Close your eyes;” Neville said quietly.

Harry complied. It was easier than looking at Neville right now. Harry couldn’t remember holding someone’s hand before, certainly not like this, sitting across from them, with no one around. There was a distant memory of having to hold another child’s hand in primary school, but they had always been reluctant and had dropped his hand as soon as they could. Neville showed no such reluctance and didn’t seem to mind the continued contact. Neither did Harry, though it was still new and a bit... strange. He could feel Neville’s callouses. He could feel how big his hands were, how strong. It was clear that Neville worked with his hands. Something about it made his heart beat faster. He wanted to both keep holding Neville’s hands and let go to get away from the nervous fluttering it was causing.

“Take a few deep breaths,” Neville continued.

Harry started. Had Neville noticed his reaction? Could he tell how agitated he was feeling?

“It helps when trying to open oneself to the presence of those we’ve lost.”

Good, it seemed he hadn’t noticed. Harry followed his instruction. It was helping him calm down, making him notice more how comforting the contact was. Neville was comforting. He’d noticed it since they’d started sharing a private room. He was sleeping better and was no longer jerking awake at the slightest provocation.

The feeling of comfort was growing stronger. He suddenly found himself thinking about what he’d seen in the Mirror of Erised back in his first year, his parents standing beside him, smiling at him. Family members resembling them behind them. And yet the picture in his mind was different than what he’d seen in the mirror. It wasn’t his 11-year-old self standing with them, but his current self. Sirius was standing beside his father, grinning down at him. There was a shift, the crowd behind them changing and increasing, and suddenly Neville was standing beside him, holding his hand. His mother smiled at them and laid her hand briefly over their joined hands and squeezed. His father was frowning slightly, but then his expression smoothed out and he patted Neville’s shoulder. He and Sirius both reached out to tussle his hair. Then the picture vanished.

Neville let go of his hands.

Harry’s eyes popped open. The movement hadn’t been abrupt, but the change had still been enough to startle him. To his surprise, he found that the candle had burned down more than he had expected. How long had they been sitting here?

“I have journals from my ancestors and pictures of my parents I like browsing today. We could look at them together. Or if you’d like to look through your photo album?”

“Do you want to look through the album with me?” Harry asked. He found that he wanted to share those mementos with Neville. “And then your pictures?”

Neville smiled. “Sounds good.”

~*~

After an early breakfast, Harry excused himself to go flying. He needed to clear his mind. Yesterday had been nice, but there was still a strange agitation that wouldn’t leave him alone. He wanted... something. Something like yesterday but also not. Something more. Which was unfair of him. Neville had agreed to a political marriage to help him deal with his responsibilities and to stop him, to stop them being pushed and hunted by those wanting their fame and money.

The Quidditch pitch wasn’t empty, even though it was so early on a Sunday. Malfoy was flying, waving between the posts. This time it seemed he was alone. Harry could see neither Zabini nor Luna anywhere.

He watched, noticing the differences to before. Malfoy had always been a good flyer. It had made playing Quidditch against him such an exciting challenge. Something about his flying was different now, though. It seemed... not smoother, not quite. Less... purposeful? Controlled? Less showy, perhaps. It also descripted his whole demeanour this year. He didn’t seem to be as intent on showing off as he’d been before. Most students who were related to Death Eaters or those who had supported Voldemort were keeping their heads down, but that wasn’t quite it with Malfoy. He no longer sought confrontations with Gryffindors but he also wasn’t hiding. Which might be in part because of Zabini. Ron had not been the only one Zabini had called out for disrespecting his husband or for trying to disturb his reconnecting with Luna. It was actually surprising for him not to be here. They seemed to be joined at the hip, always close, often touching.

It was sweet. He had no idea if it had started out as a love match or as a political union, but it was clear that Zabini cared. He certainly cared more about his happiness than Lucius Malfoy had, from what Luna had mentioned. It must be nice, to have a spouse who made such an effort for you.

Malfoy-Zabini suddenly landed in front of him and got off the broom. “What do you want?”

Harry straightened. He hadn’t noticed that he must have been standing there for a while. “Nothing, Malfoy, just here for some flying.”

He visibly bristled. “Zabini. I’m not Draco Malfoy anymore but Draco Zabini.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t care if you’re a bit slow to understand yourself, I’m married now. Happily married.”

It took him a moment to understand what he was implying. “No! No, I wasn’t… I’m not…”

He stared him down, an eyebrow raised. “This is not the first time you’ve been staring.”

Harry wanted his invisibility cloak, or for the ground to swallow him. “I’m not interested in you! Not like that! I was looking at Zabini -”

His eyes flashed with fury and he pulled his wand. “Blaise is my husband! If you dare to try and -”

“I’m not trying to break you up!” Harry quickly cut in. “Or join you! I just want a marriage like yours.”

He stopped and stared at him. “What?”

“It’s clear that he loves you. That he cares about your happiness. That he pays attention to you.” In fact they seemed to be each other’s centre of attention.

“And yours doesn’t?” He sounded incredulous.

Harry was about to protest that theirs was a political marriage but stopped himself just in time.

“Longbottom clearly cares about your happiness, cares about you.”

“We’re friends.” It was true, but he knew it was a weak protest. At it was unfair of him to resent it. They had agreed to marry because they were friends, because a marriage of convenience for political reason would be preferable to a marriage to a stranger. It was egoistical of him to now want more, to resent Malfoy and Zabini for having the kind of romantic relationship he was only now realizing he wanted.

The kind of relationship he was only now realizing he wanted with Neville.

Malfoy-Zabini raised an eyebrow. “So are Blaise and I.”

Harry groaned in frustration. Then, deciding to throw caution to the wind, he blurted out. “We’re only friends.”

“Oh.” It seemed he was understanding now. “Does he know? That you want more, I mean.”

“No.” How would he? He had only just figured it out.

He snorted. “Then you should talk to him. I doubt he’d make a move. Not with how... unkind some where about his looks because his last growth spurt.”

“He’s beautiful!” Outside and especially inside. He wanted to demand more information. Who had dared to disparage Neville? Who had been blind enough to dare and claim that he was not attractive?

Zabini held up his hands. “I’m not disagreeing. I’m just telling you my read on his motivations, what I think why he won’t make the first step. Especially when he likely doubts that you return his interest.”

Harry closed his eyes. “You mean he also thinks that I...” He pointed at Zabini, then himself. He suddenly remembered how Ron and Hermione had questioned him about his following Zabini around during their sixth year, remembering how often he’d been watching Zabini and Malfoy-Zabini this school year.

“Possibly.”

“I need to talk to Neville.”

Neville jumped when the door to their room flew open. He was carefully putting away the albums they had pulled out last night, pausing from time to time at some of the pictures. He was surprised to find Harry back already, and out of breath like he’d hurried back. “Harry, did something -?”

“I’m not interested in Malfoy,” Harry blurted out. “Zabini. Either. Both.”

Neville blinked. “What?”

“I haven’t been looking at him because I’m attracted to him.” He looked at him expectantly.

“I... Thank you for telling me?” Though he wasn’t sure why. Neither Harry nor Zabini were ones to have an affair. He and Harry should probably talk about that, about they would do if Harry fell for someone.

Harry still seemed frustrated. “I like how they are with one another.”

Neville tried to understand where he was going with this. “How they still act like they are courting one another, even though they are married?”

Harry smiled brightly. “Yes, that. I want that. Courting. I want that with you. To court you and to be...”

“To be courted by me?”

Harry nodded slightly. “I know it’s not what we agreed on but I’d like to see if we...” His words came quicker and quicker. “We’re friends, you’re one of my best friends, but I like you and I’d like to see if we’re... if we can be husbands in every sense of the word.”

“I like you as well,” Neville blurted out.

Harry stopped. “Yeah?” he asked. Neville could not understand how he could sound so surprised by this.

“Yeah.”

“So...”

“So, want to go to Hogsmeade next weekend? For a date?”

“Yes.”