Brush With Fame

Brush With Fame

By Magic of Isis

~*~*~

"This is really weird, Harry," said Neville as he squinted at his friend. "I can't see a thing."

Harry handed Neville the glasses that he no longer needed, and stared in amazement as Neville put them on. When Neville could see properly, he glanced up at Harry and smiled.

"Say something, then. You need to try to sound like me because our voices don't automatically change," Harry said.

"Yours needs to be a bit lower, and you don't have my accent quite right. How does mine sound?"

Harry nodded. "I think you're all right. Try not to talk too much, though, or someone who knows me well might figure it out. Ready to test the waters?"

"Yeah," sighed Neville. "This may be as close as I ever get to fifteen minutes of fame."

Harry opened the door to their dormitory. "Don't be silly - I guarantee after one hour of being me, you'll never want to do anything to get yourself noticed."

Harry had complained to Neville the other day about the burden of being famous, and Neville had complained, in turn, about the frustration of being anonymous. So when they brewed Polyjuice Potion in Snape's class that morning, and Harry had the opportunity to smuggle two vials up to the dormitory, it seemed like the perfect way to prove whose situation was more miserable. Neville had been hesitant at first, but had warmed up to the idea after Harry was mobbed by a group of fifth years who wanted his opinion on which career options seemed the best, while completely ignoring the fact that Neville was standing next to him.

Seeing the common room nearly empty, they decided to head to the library. Since the Easter holidays were rapidly approaching, most of the teachers were giving exams, so there would be lots of students studying there.

They'd just sat down at a table when a voice hissed, "Neville!"

Neville looked around and saw that it was Hermione who had spoken. Although she was motioning at Harry, it took a moment for Neville to remember that Harry now looked like him.

"Hermione wants to talk to me," he whispered to Harry. Harry looked over at her table, and she beckoned to him.

"I'll be right back. Let's see if she's smart enough to figure this out."

Neville watched his body sit down in the seat next to Hermione, and he became a little nervous as Hermione leaned in to say something secretive. He hoped that whatever Harry found out about him wouldn't be too embarrassing.

Harry had no sooner moved away than two Ravenclaws approached Neville. They began to talk to him, flirting shamelessly and asking him personal questions. Of course, they thought he was Harry, and he couldn't really answer these things on Harry's behalf, so he coyly refused to supply any information. They asked to sit with him and he said no, he needed to revise. They walked away looking dejected.

Several of the Gryffindor Quidditch players walked by and jovially punched Neville on the arm, asking about the next practice and making a few lewd broomstick jokes. After they left, Neville looked over to see that Harry was still huddled with Hermione, and he couldn't imagine what they were discussing.

While he was staring at his body talking to Hermione, Ron slipped into the chair across from him. "Hi Ron," he said, making sure to raise his voice to match Harry's tenor.

"Harry, I've been looking all over for you. I think I may have gotten myself into a bit of a bind," he said quietly. "I finally got up the nerve to ask out Lisa Turpin, and she said yes for Friday night. But I'd forgotten that I told Vicky that I'd go to her choir concert, and I know for sure she'll have sex with me afterwards if I go. What do you think I should do?"

Not having any experience with girls, Neville had no idea what to tell him. "I...er, I don't know."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Just because you're into boys doesn't mean you can't offer up an opinion here. It's not like I'm asking you to date one of them or anything. Come on, I'm dying here."

Neville's heart began to race. Harry was into boys? How could he not have known that? He'd been crushing on Harry for as long as he could remember, but he'd never once considered the idea that Harry might be gay. A broad smile crossed his face before he remembered that Ron was expecting an answer from him.

"Go out with Lisa. She's really hot." Neville had no idea if Harry really thought that was true, but Ron seemed satisfied with the response.

Harry came back to the table, blushing thoroughly. Neville had never seen himself blush, and he had to admit that it was fairly endearing. He was slightly disturbed to think of what Hermione must have said to give him that reaction.

Ron saw Vicky Frobisher across the room and left to cancel their date for Friday. When they were alone, Neville asked, "Well, what did she want?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but another clan of girls who stopped by to flirt with "Harry" interrupted them. Out of the corner of his eye, Neville could see Harry smirking with amusement while the girls pestered him with questions that were extremely pointless and silly.

The steady stream of interruptions continued for another twenty minutes. Just as Neville would figure out how to get one group to leave, another girl or group of girls would show up. It got worse after that when Malfoy stopped at their table and sneered at him.

"Holding court in the library tonight, are you Potter?" spat Malfoy.

"Sod off, Malfoy," snarled Neville, using the expression he'd heard Harry use for years. "I'm just trying to revise like everyone else."

"As if any amount of revising is going to help your Potions marks." Malfoy spared Harry only a fleeting glance, since he couldn't be bothered to taunt Longbottom today.

After he left, Neville apologized. "Sorry, Harry. I couldn't think of a good retort as fast as you always do."

Harry smiled. "That's all right. I've had years to think of them. I always keep a few handy because he never seems to miss an opportunity to insult me." Harry looked at his watch. "We'd better head back to the dormitory. We've only got a few more minutes."

They packed up their things and started back to Gryffindor Tower. On the way, Harry asked, "So how did you like being Harry?"

"It was really different. I'm just wondering how you get anything done. Those girls, they just started talking to me and asking all sorts of personal questions, and I couldn't make them go away!"

"You only had to experience an hour of it - it's always like that for me when I leave Gryffindor Tower. On the other hand, I really enjoyed watching it happen to someone else."

They arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, and Neville noticed his eyesight getting worse. He looked at Harry and saw the faint outline of his scar showing on his forehead.

"Quick," he whispered, "we're changing back."

They raced up the stairs and were relieved to find their dormitory empty. Neville handed Harry his glasses back and was surprised when Harry sat down next to him on his bed.

"Neville, Hermione said something in the library thinking I was you, and I didn't know how to make her stop..." Harry's emerald eyes burned with intensity, and his face was slightly flushed.

Neville blushed to his forehead and his lip began to quiver slightly. If Harry was so concerned, then it must have been something really humiliating.

"What did she tell you?"

"She said she'd been thinking about the conversation you and she'd had a few weeks ago, and I had to ask her which one because I had no idea what she was going on about, and she said it was the one where you were telling her about the boy you had a crush on." Harry's eyes flicked up to Neville's, but then he looked away again.

The memory of the conversation came flooding back to Neville, and he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He'd confessed all about his crush on Harry - without ever naming him of course - and asked her advice on how to approach the person since he wasn't sure whether his advance would be welcome. Oh no, what had she said?

Neville raised a hand to cover part of his face as Harry continued. "She didn't tell me who it was, but the things she was saying made it pretty clear that she thought it might have been, er, me you were talking about."

Neville wanted to die on the spot. Sure, he'd thought about saying something to Harry - he'd thought about it a lot - but Gryffindor or not, he didn't think he'd ever get up the courage to do it. He blushed even deeper, if that was possible.

"Harry, I--"

"No, let me finish. I don't want to sound presumptuous or anything, but I thought you should know that I...uh...that I'm gay and that I find you attractive."

The two of them sat there awkwardly while Neville's brain tried to process what he'd just heard. It was difficult to tell which of them was more embarrassed because they were both beet-red and breathing heavily.

"Ron told me that tonight," Neville said finally. "About you fancying blokes. I had no idea." He cast a shy glance at Harry and nodded. "Yes, you were the one I spoke to Hermione about."

They leaned in towards each other, and their lips met uncertainly. Neville thought it felt nice, though, and when he pulled away, Harry was smiling.

"Did Hermione have any good advice on how I should make a move on you?" Neville murmured.

"Oh yeah," said Harry with mock sincerity. "She said you should hold me really tight and give me a little tongue."

Neville did as Harry suggested and was rewarded with Harry's tongue gently probing his mouth as well. After so many months of wanting, Neville thought it was brilliant.

"Neville," moaned Harry, pulling him closer and snaking a hand up under Neville's jumper.

Neville was beginning to lose himself in his arousal when Ron burst through the door to the dormitory. Neville pulled away from Harry quickly, but as Harry's hands had been tangled up in his jumper, it was quite obvious to Ron what they'd been up to.

Ron shook his head a few times - perhaps to get the image he'd walked in on out of his brain - before muttering, "Sorry."

"S'all right, mate," said Harry. "Next time we'll lock the door." Neville liked the sound of that - next time. Ron settled onto his bed, and they knew they'd have to get to know each other better another time.

"You know, Harry, I still think it's better to be famous than anonymous," said Neville sincerely. "But the Polyjuice idea was brilliant."

Harry smiled at him, his pupils still dilated with lust. "It was, wasn't it? I can't believe Hermione fell for it, though. It'll be fun to wind her up about that."

Ron looked up from his Charms text. "No, she knew it was you. She told me that right after you left. She kept going on about how thick you were being."

Neville's eyes met Harry's and they started to laugh. He'd never been more pleased that Hermione was an interfering, bossy know-it-all.

finis