The Boy Who Didn't

Leap Day, 1992. The students in the Gryffindor common room were divided into two groups that night. The biggest and loudest group by far was the female students, huddled together, whispering amongst themselves about that dreamy Cedric Diggory and whomever else they wanted to propose to. It was Leap Day, the only day a witch could legally propose to a wizard, and though the students were too young for marriage, it was still fun to dream.

The second group of students was the male students. They too were huddled together, sniggering about whether anybody would ever propose to Snape. Neville belonged in neither group. He was not a girl to gush over well-built Beaters, nor did he have it in him to laugh with the boys about the propositions in Snape's past. Instead he was out for a walk along the lake.

It was the perfect night for it. Crisp. Cold. Quiet. Too quiet. He found, in the silence, that he thought too much. Tonight he was thinking about Hermione Granger. Truth be told, he thought about Hermione most nights, but tonight his thoughts were particularly vivid.

He could see her walking along, on the other side of the lake. She was recognizable by the nimbus of brown hair surrounding her head. Except for a solitary figure flying around on a broomstick in the distance, they were alone outside. Neville stared at her, and though he couldn't see her face with his eyes, he could see her in his mind.

Beautiful, to his eyes at least. He heard the Slytherins talk nastily about her in the hallways; he knew what they said was wrong. She was beauty to him, from the top of her untamable head of hair to the tip of her size five boots. He had learned her shoe size in Madame Malkin's before school one year when she'd been measured for a pair of dragon hide boots. He'd filed that tidbit about her in his brain and had never forgotten it.

There she stood, on the edge of the lake, her cloak free to float in the wind.

Her eyes were shining at him by the light of the moon as he walked up beside her. After a few nervous gulps, he took her hand in his, happy when she didn't pull away. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Nobody ever would have guessed that forgetful Neville Longbottom would end up married to the smartest student ever to attend Hogwarts; nobody ever would have guessed that they'd make such a happy and well-matched pair. Neville could hardly believe his luck. The look in her eyes when she told him she loved...

Neville heard a loud crash and several snapping noises. His moment with Hermione was over before it even began. He looked across the lake. Hermione had fallen to the ground. Somebody in a green cloak was helping her up.

Green cloak. He heart leaped into his throat and he felt his stomach sink into the ground beneath his feet. Paralyzed with emotion, he stood rooted to the ground, staring across the lake.

Neville saw the moonlight glint off silver-blonde locks of hair. He saw a hand reach out towards Hermione, and then he turned and walked away. Hands in his pockets, he sighed to himself and refused to look back at what happened next.

He didn't hear the shouts of Harry and Ron on the other side of the lake.

He didn't see the hand reaching out for Hermione fall short of her face.

He didn't know that he wasn't the only one who wanted to reach out to Hermione that evening, and fail.

Leap Day, 1996, found Neville Longbottom once again walking laps around the lake. His legs ached and his feet felt as if they were going to fall off, but still, he walked. He'd stayed in the common room for a while, laughing with the rest of the Gryffindors at the preposterous proposals made for the Proposal Pool. The Weasley Twins had a real racket going on, taking bets on which of the girls would proposition certain boys. It was a twist on the real meaning of Leap Day, and a profitable one at that. Ron had good odds on Cho Chang proposing something (Neville blushed when he remembered Seamus and Ron laughing about exactly what "something" was) to Cedric Diggory by seven that evening. He didn't stick around to hear the results.

He knew that Hermione was also out for a walk. He could see her walking now, if he wanted to. He just had to turn his head to the left and she'd be there across the water. The months leading up to this Leap Day had been full of thought for him. He remembered that first February the 29^th he'd spent at Hogwarts, his walk along the lake, the future he'd envisioned. He told himself he was out here for the fresh air, but his heart knew differently. Maybe this time he'd reach out and...

Once again Neville's imagination swept him into a never-to-be moment. As he stood staring at Hermione across the lake, he imagined their future together. They were returning to Hogwarts to teach, he as the Herbology Professor, and she taking over for Snape, who'd recently retired, as the Potions Master. It would be a wonderful opportunity to spend more time with their four children, all of whom were enrolled in Hogwarts. Gryffindor, of course; even little Alice who wanted to be put in Ravenclaw, just to be different. He smiled, remembering the sour look on her face when the Sorting Hat had shouted out what she didn't want to hear.

Neville's feet started walking of their own accord; they were speeding up, forcing Neville to move towards the other side of the lake, towards Hermione. By the time his thought-filled mind caught up with his body, it was too late. Hidden in shadow he watched as once again, Draco Malfoy sought Hermione out on the shoreline.

This time he didn't stay to watch him reach for her. He turned himself back around, his black cloak blending him in with the shadows created by the moonlight and the trees.

He didn't see the quick caress foiled yet again.

He didn't hear Ron shouting excitedly, driving Draco away.

He didn't know he wasn't the only one who had tried to be with Hermione, and fail.

Leap Day, 2004, is a day Neville tries not to remember. The twenty-ninth was ghastly. The images of the final day in the battle against Lord Voldemort will forever be burned onto his eyes. It doesn't matter if they are open or closed, he can still see the piles of rubble, the burnt bodies, the vacant stares of the dead.

He did not participate directly in the battle, not like Dumbledore or Harry or even Ginny Weasley. He was more of a 'behind the scenes' man. After graduating from Hogwarts, he went on to study advanced theories in Herbology. Together with several other top minds in the field, he designed a Devil's Snare hybrid that killed within seconds. If the nerve toxins the plant secreted didn't kill you, its strangling vines would. It had been his job during the war to plant the seedlings in areas known to be Death Eater territory.

Neville's job was made easier when Luna Lovegood joined his research team. She had been in Greenland, looking for Six-legged Snorkelsnipes, a rare bird capable of invisibility and once thought to exist only in fairy tales. Somehow, Luna had managed not only to discover the birds but tame them as well. Her return to Britain was nothing short of triumphant, and when it was discovered that anything the birds carried in their claws would turn invisible as well, she was teamed up with Neville and his group. The Snorkelsnipes were taught how to plant the seedlings. Point to an area on a map and they were off, one seedling clutched in each claw.

Now that the battle was over, now that Voldemort was dead, Neville, Luna and even the Snorkelsnipes were working to clean up the debris, search for survivors, and find the dead. It was heartbreaking work. Every time Neville saw a hand or a foot sticking out of the rubble, his heart started beating triple time and fear rushed through his veins. It might be somebody he knew...

That was the case on the first of March when, led by a Snorkelsnipe (they had turned out to be amazing at finding survivors), Neville came across Hermione. She was huddled beside a concrete beam that was lying across a body. The body was Draco Malfoy's, and Hermione was cradling his upper body in her arms. Neither was conscious. Neville placed two fingers up against Hermione's neck. She had a pulse, but it was weak and thready. He looked down at Draco. His lips, chin, and neck were bloodstained, and so were Hermione's fingers, tangled in his hair.

He carefully untangled her hand from Draco's hair and held her hand in his. Closing his eyes, he pressed her hand to his face. It was still warm.

When she took her hand away, she was looking up at him, smiling.

"Neville," she whispered. "You came."

"Of course I came!" he told her, chuckling. "You don't think I'd miss the most important day of our lives. It's not everyday I get to marry the woman of my dreams."

Hermione blushed and smiled at him once more. "You were late. I was getting worried."

"I love you, Hermione, and I wouldn't miss this day for anything. Come on, let's go!"

Hand in hand, Neville and Hermione walked into a large, outdoor tent. Its white walls were billowing in the breeze. Inside the tent was everybody they knew and loved. Friends, family, old schoolmates; they'd all traveled for miles to go to what was the biggest wizarding wedding of the year. Neville looked around, smiling at everybody, and then looked up at the ceiling. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, but when he glanced at it a second time, he noticed it was pressing down on him...

The ceiling above him creaked loudly, startling him out of yet another imaginary future. When he looked up, he noticed that the ceiling was a lot closer to the ground than when he had first walked in. He would have to move fast. There wasn't time to send for the others.

Somewhat reluctantly, (...funny how years of torture at Malfoy's hand would come crashing back to him now...part of him wanted to just leave him there but it wasn't in his nature to commit such an atrocity, no matter how much that part of him yearned to...) he felt for Malfoy's pulse. He felt nothing. Hermione could be his! Instant joy flooded through his heart followed by an intense amount of guilt for feeling that way.

Neville separated Hermione from Draco and carried her gently out of the way. Walking back to Draco, he pointed his wand at the concrete beam. Swish and flick. A little 'Wingardium Leviosa' and the beam rose off the ground. Keeping his wand pointed at the beam, he used his other hand to drag Draco out from under it.

Whether it was the sudden movement or the release of the horrible pressure on his legs, Neville never knew, but Draco Malfoy rushed back to consciousness with a vicious howl of pain. And whether it was the screaming in general or the fact that it was Draco doing the screaming, Neville never knew, but Hermione was instantly alert. She tried to crawl towards them.

"Hermione..." Draco's voice was quiet and strained.

"Draco...you're...Neville! Oh, thank Merlin you're here. Draco, he's hurt..."

Neville lay Draco gently back on the ground. He had passed out again. Tears streamed from his eyes, creating pale pink rivulets down his bloodstained face. Neville looked closely and could see the painfully slow rise and fall of Draco's chest. Somehow, he lived. He moved towards Hermione.

"Hermione, stay still. You're hurt. Help is coming."

As if on cue, a Six-legged Snorkelsnipe swooped into the room and Luna was not far behind. She brought with her a Healer in lime green robes and several other Search and Rescue members. Neville faded into the background as the Healer took over, ordering the rescuers about. He ducked out of the building, presumably to search for somebody else.

Only Luna noticed him leaving, but she didn't say anything. She just stood there and watched as he made his way through the wreckage.

Neville didn't see the Healer, shaking his head sadly.

He didn't hear Hermione, calling out to him.

He didn't know he wasn't the only one to leave Hermione that night.