Close To Truth

Harry was glad he got to the restaurant before Neville; it meant that Neville wouldn’t have the chance to call out Harry’s name across the room and attract unwanted attention. Harry hid his scar as best he could and managed to get a table without being recognized. He sat down and ordered a drink; as soon as the waitress had left, he glanced around, and seeing there was no one nearby to overhear him, he murmured “Ginny? Alicia?”

“Here,” Alicia’s voice whispered back from nearby.

Ginny didn’t respond verbally—but Harry felt a hand ghost across his thigh and rub lightly at his cock for a second before withdrawing. He managed not to twitch by sheer force of will, and muttered “Cut it out, Gin!” The faint hint of a snicker was his only answer.

Neville ended up being about ten minutes late; He smiled at Harry as he slid into the seat opposite. “Hey, Harry,” he said, reaching out a hand.

Harry shook Neville’s hand. “Good to see you, Neville,” he said cheerfully. “Congratulations about your parents; that’s really amazing, well done!”

Neville flushed at the compliment. Because of the Memory Charm he didn’t know that Harry had in fact been present when Neville’s parents had been woken from their decade-long stupors; Neville believed he’d been the one to wake them, rather than Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Harry. “Thanks,” he said shyly. “It’s great…I mean, we’re having to get to know each other like we’ve never met…which I guess we hadn’t, really.” He reddened even more, but Harry thought he looked more ashamed than proud. “Er…did you hear the rest of what happened?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, even though he knew exactly what Neville was talking about. Then he pretended to realize; “Oh…you mean what happened to Hermione? I saw her yesterday, mate—she’s doing okay, she’s not so bad off.”

No, not that,” Neville said. “I mean, I’m glad to hear that…I wish I could’ve stopped it, but I think we’re lucky we didn’t die, even if Hermione was Cursed permanently.”

“You were,” Harry confirmed. “Bellatrix Lestrange…since it was her, you were really lucky.”

Neville looked a bit jumpy at the mention of Bellatrix. “That—yeah. I mean, I’m glad she’s dead,” he said, his voice growing fierce for a moment. “She deserved it. But still…”

Harry thought he understood what Neville was thinking. “But you killed someone,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Neville agreed wretchedly. “And part of me is really glad I did it—and that’s just sick, you know? I don’t care who she was, I don’t want to feel glad about killing anyone! But I do!”

The waitress came to take their order, but Harry didn’t pay much attention to what he was ordering. He was too busy thinking about what to say. Neville didn’t know that not only had Neville’s and Hermione’s lives been in danger than night, but Harry’s and Pansy’s as well. He’d even managed to spare Pansy feeling the Cruciatus Curse with his bravery. He did know that he’d killed Bellatrix Lestrange in self-defense…but knowing that didn’t necessarily help.

“Listen, Neville,” Harry said quietly once the waitress had gone, “don’t feel guilty about what you feel. You killed Bellatrix in self-defense, saved your life and Hermione’s, and your parents’, and who knows how many other people! You should be happy that she’s gone!”

“But I shouldn’t be happy that I’m the one who killed her,” Neville muttered.

“Why not?” Harry retorted. “If I get the chance to kill Voldemort, I’m going to do it, and I’ll dance on the bastard’s grave. In fact, I’ll be bloody ecstatic if I’m the one who gets to do it.”

Neville nodded. “Yeah…I get that,” he said, looking a bit less ashamed. “Do you think you’ll… feel at all bad about it? Because I do. It’s kind of funny, that I feel guilty about feeling happy and guilty about feeling bad at the same time.”

“Yeah, I will,” Harry said with certainty. “It’s because we’re not like them, Neville; we know it’s wrong. Killing is more than evil—it literally tears your soul.” Harry felt something strike his ankle and shut his mouth; Ginny had kicked him to stop him saying anything else that might reveal he knew about Horcruxes.

“I think people like Bellatrix and V-V-Voldemort know that killing is wrong,” Neville responded. “The real difference is, they don’t care.”

“Probably,” Harry agreed.

Neville sighed. “Thanks, Harry,” he said. “I should’ve known you’d understand. I, um…don’t really feel comfortable talking about it with my parents yet.”

“What about your gran?” Harry asked teasingly.

Neville shuddered. “I don’t think so, no.”

“Did you ever tell your gran about Snape in her outfit?” Harry asked innocently.

“Of course not!” Neville exclaimed, his eyes going huge and round. Then he smiled shyly when he saw Harry chortling. “But I just might have to tell mum and dad. I think they’d appreciate how funny it was.”

“Probably,” Harry agreed, glad they’d gotten into a less uncomfortable topic. “By the way, sorry I haven’t come to visit you and your parents at St. Mungo’s; I thought you might not want that much more attention if the Chosen One”—he said the title ironically—“showed up. And I’ve been kind of busy, anyway.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Neville replied with a grin. “You and Ginny got married! I can hardly believe it—is it really true? How did that happen?”

“Yeah, it’s true,” Harry said, his cheeks going a bit red. “I just…Ginny’s great, and I’m happy with her—even if she is a pain sometimes,” he added with a smirk.

Harry had expected another kick for that last comment, but what he got was even more startling; Ginny’s hand grabbed his crotch again and squeezed, hard. And because Neville was right there, Harry couldn’t do anything to stop her.

“She is great,” Neville agreed. “Um, I thought I should say…in case you didn’t know…”

“What?” Harry asked, still trying to sound casual while Ginny’s hand had slipped between the fold of his robes and was working the button of his jeans loose. He slid a hand under the table and tried to push hers away, but couldn’t without it being obvious something was going on.

“Well, you know I went to the Yule Ball with Ginny, right?” Neville said, and Harry nodded. “Well, afterwards…Ginny kissed me.”

Harry stared in genuine shock. “She did?”

“Just a little peck on the lips,” Neville insisted quickly. “But still, she, um…” He looked mortified. “You’re not angry, are you?”

Ginny’s thumb was rolling over the tip of Harry’s cock through his boxers. “N-no,” he said, stumbling over the word a bit. “I’m…don’t worry, Neville, it doesn’t bother me. I know Ginny had boyfriends before she and I got together—”

“It wasn’t like that,” Neville insisted. “It was just the one kiss after the Ball, we didn’t see each other again! I, at least, you know, not that way…”

“I know, I didn’t mean that,” Harry said with a smile. “I just meant that I don’t care about what happened before I kissed her last year. Ginny loves me and that’s all I care about.” Ginny’s fingertips slid down and her nails raked back up along Harry’s shaft. “Even if she is a right pain sometimes,” Harry added through gritted teeth.

Their food arrived; Ginny withdrew her hand, no doubt so she wouldn’t get bumped by the waitress. Harry was half-afraid that Ginny would start tormenting him again once the waitress left, but fortunately no invisible hands returned once he and Neville started eating.

“So Harry,” Neville asked in between bites, “is being married any different?”

Harry considered that; how would he answer if his life was actually as simple as Neville believed it was? “Different than just dating? Not a lot, I guess,” he said. “Well, there’s one big difference; Ginny’s legally an adult now, so anything we…er, do is legal. Plus I have my own place now, so we don’t have to search for a bit of time alone like we did at Hogwarts.”

Neville grinned. “So you get to shag a lot more than before?”

Harry flushed; it didn’t help knowing that Ginny was right there, listening. “Well…yeah.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t feel embarrassed about shagging your own wife!”

“Stop smirking at me, then!”

“Okay,” Neville said, although the grin never left his face. “But seriously, Harry, would you really have thought any of the Gryffindors in our year would be married so young? Well,” he amended, “I wouldn’t have been surprised if Hermione and Ron were, actually.”

“They’re getting there,” Harry said. “Did Hermione tell you?”

“About them being engaged? Yeah,” Neville said happily. “She showed me the ring, too. I knew those two would end up together.”

“I think we all did,” Harry agreed with a chortle. “No wonder you never asked Hermione out again after the Yule Ball!”

“What?” Neville exclaimed, startled. “But—but I’ve never told anyone that…that I had a crush on Hermione,” he said, dropping his voice. “How did you know?”

Harry hesitated. Neville had told them himself, teasing Hermione about it on his very first day with the D.A. But of course, he didn’t remember that. “I just guessed,” he covered, inventing quickly. “We all knew you’d asked her to the Ball, and so I wondered…actually I worried about it, because I knew Ron liked her too, and it was pretty obvious that she liked him, so…”

“Oh—yeah,” Neville agreed, and Harry sighed with relief. “That’s why I never asked her out again…because I knew she wasn’t interested in anyone but Ron. I thought it was pretty funny how jealous he got of Krum, actually.”

“Yeah, so did I,” Harry said. “Well, not really…I was too busy worrying about saving my own skin.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Neville agreed, sobering. “When you think about stuff like that, Harry, you have to remember: everything happens for a reason. If my parents had never been captured by those Death Eaters, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. And that’s not good or bad—it’s just the way it is.”

“Yeah, well…sometimes the way it is sucks,” Harry said flatly. Then he managed a weak smile. “But not always.”

Neville smiled back. “I know it’s not consolation or anything, but I’ve been having nightmares recently…just like you.”

“Wh—you knew about my nightmares?” Harry asked, stunned.

Neville gave Harry an odd look. “We all knew, Harry. Me, Ron, Seamus and Dean. We all heard you talking in your sleep—crying sometimes, too,” he admitted embarrassedly. “But we kind of had an unspoken agreement not to bring it up unless you did; we figured you had enough to worry about.”

It gave Harry a warm feeling to know that his mates had been looking out for him like that; and even when Seamus wasn’t talking to him during fifth year, he’d never betrayed the secret of Harry’s nightmares to anyone. “Thanks, Neville,” he said sincerely. “I, er…had kind of forgotten I did that; the summer before fifth year my cousin Dudley told me, but that was right before the Dementors attacked us.”

Neville’s eyes went wide. “That’s right, I heard about that,” he said in awe. “I still can’t believe you can cast a Patronus! Even after the D.A., I never managed to. I probably couldn’t if I practiced for a million years!”

Harry felt a wave of guilt hit him; Neville had grown proficient in the Patronus Charm two months earlier, creating a surprisingly fierce Gryfalcon that was second in power within the D.A. only to Harry’s stag. “Yeah, well…” he muttered, “contact with Dementors didn’t exactly help with my dreams.”

“It wouldn’t, would it?” Neville agreed. Then he smiled. “You know, I had a dream about you the other day.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry said curiously, taking another forkful of food. “What about?”

“I was working in a greenhouse,” Neville said, chuckling at the memory. “Well, it was kind of a greenhouse, but it was set up in some old house. And I was taking care of all kinds of plants, including some stuff that was kind of dangerous—not all of it was legal, even. And then you came in, and it was like you’d hired me to run the greenhouse or something, because you were asking me how things were going and if I had all the supplies I needed. And then you asked if everything was set up for the Last Rites plant you were expecting, which is absurd because—”

Harry choked on his food. Startled, Neville got up and hurried around to pound him on the back. “Harry, are you okay?” he asked once Harry got his breath back.

“Y-yeah,” Harry said quickly, reaching for his water glass. “Just went down the wrong way.” Harry’s mind was racing: the dream Neville had described exactly matched events that had occurred in the House of Black! “That—that’s a weird dream,” he said cautiously.

“I’ve been having a lot of really weird dreams lately,” Neville admitted with a shy laugh as he sat back down. “Last week I dreamed I was in some potions laboratory, shagging Pansy Parkinson, of all people!” He flushed, clearly embarrassed. “And she treated me like garbage all six years we were in Hogwarts together.”

Harry didn’t know if that dream could be based on reality, it was at least possible…and Pansy’s behavior towards Neville had been less nasty than to most of the rest of the D.A. If they’d been shagging it might explain that. Bloody hell…is Neville remembering things? But he’s supposed to be Obliviated! “That’s even weirder,” he offered.

“Yeah…don’t ask me why, but I’ve had a few dreams with Pansy in lately,” Neville admitted, going even redder. “In one of my nightmares she was there the night Bellatrix Lestrange showed up…you were too, actually.”

Harry’s heart leapt into his throat. “We were?” he managed to get out.

“Yeah,” Neville said unhappily. “It was horrible…Hermione got Cursed, just like in real life, and there were hexes and Curses being thrown everywhere…I’ve dreamed that one a few times, now. It’s really awful; I feel so helpless in it, because I know I’m going to kill Bellatrix even before it happens, but I can’t stop it…”

Harry almost asked Neville what happened in his dream after Bellatrix was dead, but he was afraid that Neville might remember asking Harry to Obliviate him. “It—it’s not real,” he said after agonizing a moment. “That’s the most important thing to remember. Even terrible things feel worse than they really are inside a dream, even if the dream is literal truth.”

“Yeah, I know,” Neville agreed. “I try not to take them too seriously. You shouldn’t either,” he suggested lightly. “Your dreams are probably worse than mine, but reality’s a lot better, right?”

With a great deal of effort, Harry smiled. “Definitely.”

Harry managed to keep the conversation light until they were through with dinner. As they walked out of the restaurant together, Harry felt a light tap in his back that let him know Ginny was following, and presumably Alicia as well. “It was good to see you , Neville,” Harry said, again shaking Neville’s hand. “You’re staying above Fred and George’s shop, right?”

“Yeah, they let me rent a room there,” Neville said. “It’s really convenient.” He grinned. “Say hi to Ginny for me. Tell her she should come along next time we get together!”

“I will,” Harry agreed, fighting down a laugh. “I’ll owl you, okay?” He waved goodbye as Neville walked off, and as soon as the other boy disappeared around a corner Harry muttered. “You there?”

“Here,” Alicia said to Harry’s left.

“Me too,” Ginny added from his right. “Harry, I know what you’re thinking…”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Neville’s in even more danger than we thought. Apparate back to the shop, both of you; Ginny, we need to talk to Hermione and Ron right away.”