A Valentines Bachelor Toast

"Ron and Hermione are off together. I don't want to know where they're going, what they're doing, or how they're going to do it. I'm a bit disgusted really." He gave a dramatic shudder.

Neville smiled a little and flopped over on his side to face Harry in his bed. "Seamus is in a corner of the common room with Lavender. Last I heard, before I waded through snogging couples to get to the stairs, she was reading his love line and making loud observations about his stamina potential." Harry snickered and Neville's smile brightened. "And Dean's off with Ginny, o'course. Trying to get off with Ginny according to him." Neville clapped a hand over his mouth and blushed furiously.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously. "It's not surprising, or even a secret. The way he brags, Ginny should be walking with her feet a meter apart."

Neville burst into embarrassed giggles, suffusing Harry with a warmth that started in his belly and trickled outward. He pushed a very strange wayward thought away as Neville chewed on his lip thoughtfully.

"I thought you, well, that you had feelings for Ginny. Ron said--"

"Oh, Ron keeps trying, but we refuse to cooperate." Harry dismissed the idea with a laugh and wave of his hand. They both lie quietly on their beds, smiles lingering. Suddenly Harry was hit with an idea.

"As the last two fifth-year Gryffindor bachelors, let's not sit here feeling sorry for ourselves. Let's toast each other." He snatched a container of pumpkin juice and started pouring two glasses.

"Right, if we can't have Valentines, we'll just have to be each other's." Harry paused in the act of pouring and looked at Neville thoughtfully, eyebrows raised.

Neville started to stammer. "N-n-not Valentines Valentines, I-I mean, not real ones. Just friendly Valentines. You know, Harry. You know what I meant. I wasn't being weird--"

Harry shook his head and smiled, handing Neville a glass and raising his own. "C'mon, let's toast. This is a fine vintage if I do say so myself. 1997 if I'm not mistaken." Neville laughed nervously. "To being single."

"To-to being single." Neville gulped half the glass, effectively choking himself and doubled over, coughing and hacking as Harry anxiously pounded on his back.

"You alright there, mate?" Neville was still doubled over, but he had gotten over the coughing fit and was breathing hard through his nose, hands on his knees.

"Why do I always make a fool of myself in front of you." He gave a self-deprecating snort. "Well, I'm always a fool, but being around you seems to make it worse somehow."

Harry's hand had gone from pounding to patting gently to rubbing in small circles. "You're not a fool, Neville. I've never thought that. I think you're brilliant. A great friend, really brave, and-and you're the best Herbology student in our year."

"Except for Hermione," Neville muttered, but he glanced up with a pleased expression on his red face.

"Except for Hermione," Harry agreed. He pulled Neville upright and poured him another glass of juice. "We've toasted our bachelor status; now let's toast each other," Harry suggested as he handed Neville the glass and raised his own expectantly.

"To you, Harry Potter," Neville started after clearing his throat. "The-the best person I've ever met. Thanks for being my friend, even if you're kind of forced to." Neville quickly clinked Harry's glass and ducked his head to take a sip.

Harry stared at the top of Neville's brown head and felt the insane urge to ruffle his hair or kiss his forehead. He inclined his head and mimicked Neville's small sip.

"To you, Neville Longbottom. Kind, generous, and a terrific boon to Gryffindor. I'm proud to call you my friend. And-and my Valentine." Harry knew his face was turning red, but when Neville's head snapped up, he held his gaze. He deliberately clinked their glasses together and took a long drink, never breaking eye contact as he drained his glass.

They continued to stare silently as Neville took another small, nervous sip from his own glass. He swayed forward slightly as Harry took an unconscious step toward him; suddenly they were inches apart. Harry's breath caught in his throat as Neville's tongue darted out to wet his lips; as he self-consciously sucked in his bottom lip, chewing.

He reached up and cupped Neville's jaw, running a thumb across his mouth, pulling his lip away from the abusive teeth.

"N-n-nervous habit," Neville whispered. Harry felt himself nod in understanding, a small area of his subconscious registering that Neville's face was suddenly out of focus so he closed his eyes and felt the slightest soft brush against his lips.

He released a small puff of air and settled his mouth against the other boy's, rubbing gently, idly noting that his lips were much softer than he had imagined. He would leave the reality that he had imagined such a thing for later contemplation.

It was nice. More than nice. Neville drew a shuddering breath through his nose, and then turned his head a bit, effectively deepening the kiss. Harry opened his mouth the tiniest bit, just to taste and found himself in direct contact with Neville's tongue.

He heard a distant sound that might have come from his own throat or Neville's. He wasn't sure he cared. The empty glass slid from nerveless fingers to bounce soundlessly on the carpet. His hands crept up to grasp Neville's shoulders and pull him closer. He jerked spasmodically as Neville's hands lightly brushed his stomach, relaxing when they settled at his waist.

They pressed together and Harry felt his eyes roll back with pleasure. He tried desperately not to think of the part of his anatomy that was getting the most pleasure. His attention was forced there when he felt that area rub against Neville's counterpart. They pulled apart with a loud smack and stared at each other.

"That was new," Harry remarked, trying to quell the rabid butterflies in his gut.

"Yes. Y-yes it was." Neville shuffled his feet and stared at the ceiling. "Was it--was it ok?"

"Bloody fantastic," Harry blurted, sure that his face was an unbecoming shade of maroon as Neville gave him a slow smile. Just as they were leaning towards each other again, the door flew open and Ron stomped in.

"Bloody git!"

Harry took one last regretful glance at Neville, butterflies going wild again as he took in the disappointed, somewhat annoyed expression on his face. "What's going on?"

"Me and Hermione were, we were, talking in the Astronomy Tower when I heard someone coming. So I, er, left her there and went looking. And what do I find? Dean, kissing my sister with his hand up her robes!"

Harry bit back a snort. "What did you do?"

Ron's ears were bright red, and he avoided Harry's gaze. "I pulled that prat off my sister and told him not to touch her ever again. And they both laughed at me. Laughed! Ginny dragged him away, ignoring everything I said--"

"--shouted--"

"--and then Hermione came out and we got in a fight about it, and now she's mad at me. Some Valentine's Day. I'm going to bed."

Neville and Harry watched in silence as Ron stomped off to the loo. Then Harry snorted. They glanced at each other and started to giggle.

"He'll never change," Harry declared. "C'mon, let's get ready for bed."

As they gathered up their night clothes, he kept shooting glances at Neville. Eventually their gaze locked and they gave each other a shy smile.

"Happy Valentine's day, Harry."

"Yes, it was."