Hero Worship

Hero Worship

It wasn't until his fourth year at Hogwarts that it occurred to Neville Longbottom that his feelings towards Harry Potter were not entirely normal.

He had always felt a sense of hero worship for Harry, yes, and a sense of gratitude, but he had felt mostly the same way (or so he had thought) towards Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, who were kind to him as well. But when Harry's name was called from the Goblet of Fire and Neville realized he was the only one who believed Harry that he had not put his own name in, things became awkward.

It had only gotten worse as the tournament went on; his horror at the thought of Harry getting hurt, warring with his pride for Harry's accomplishments. Then Harry had come back with the dead body of Cedric Diggory, and all Neville could think of was Harry. And when Dumbledore said You-Know-Who had risen and Harry had escaped him, Neville realized it was true instantly.

He tried to tell himself he would've felt the same worry and pride for any Gryffindor, and he tried to have fun with Ginny Weasley at the Yule Ball. When Ginny had eventually ditched him for Michael Corner, he could not have cared less. He did care, however, when Harry and Ron disappeared for a good period of time.

Fifth year came, and with it the opportunity to get closer to Harry. Maybe barely anyone else believed Harry, but Neville did, and he knew his loyalty was appreciated. No one else was angrier at the mockery everyone was making of Harry. No one else was as angry when Harry was kicked off the Quidditch team, or when Umbridge tormented him. No one else recruited so vehemently members to the D.A., and no one tried harder to master everything Harry taught them.

Neville wasn't blind. He might be in denial about his feelings, but that did not keep him from seeing the burgeoning relationship between Harry and Cho Chang. Nor did it stop him from hating Cho, as irrational as he knew it was. She wasn't good enough for Harry.

As horrifying as the incident at Christmas had been--his secret revealed, his own parents who didn't die nobly fighting You-Know-Who but who were turned into vegetables by mere Death Eaters, coupled with his grandmother's obvious contempt for him-- he treasured the memory anyway. For Harry understood. When he had finally gathered the courage to look at them, he knew Harry understood. It was written all over his face.

It wasn't until Neville flew on one of those hideous thestrals for a reason he did not fully understand, that he finally admitted the truth to himself. He would die for Harry. And not because Harry was the supposed savior of the Wizarding world, or because Neville would die for any of his friends. It was a different reason entirely; one that made him plunge headfirst into a pit of Death Eaters after Harry without a second of hesitation. One that made him check his fake galleon multiple times a day, in the vain hope that the D.A. would be restarted. It was the same reason that made him burn with jealousy at Ginny Weasley, then be thrilled (ashamed, but thrilled) at their relationship's demise.

So when he overheard a conversation between Ron, Hermione and Harry that he was most certainly not meant to overhear, one that involved finding hidden, dangerous things and defeating You-Know-Who, he had invited himself along. And when Harry looked Neville straight in the eye, while Ron and Hermione adamantly refused to allow him to come along, and overrode their protests with a simple "Okay," it was the best moment of his life.