★┊[ Confessions
aka… two idiots in love confess after years
warnings ~ SO INCREDIBLY FLUFFY, cute mutual pining, reader's outfit is briefly described, reader is bffs with ginny and lavender, reader is a gryffindor, neville is hopelessly in love, sudden confessions, #iyearnforautumn
── .✦ a/n ~ i know this isnt exactl what you'd asked for, but I hope you still rlly like this one! feel free to send in another req if you dont <33
Neville Longbottom was always absolutely hopeless when it came to girls.
While all of his friends had started seeing girls, or at the very least being noticed by them, the boy was quite the opposite. It’s not like he ever minded, he was never a fan of attention. He had no clue what he’d do if he was in Harry or Draco’s shoes.
That is, until you came into his life.
He’d been in the greenhouse, re-potting a mimbulus mibletonia, when you approached.
“Hello?” Your voice rang out into the otherwise quiet space.
Neville jumped, nearly dropping the poor plant, whipping his head around to face you.
“Oh, merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!'“ You exclaimed.
“N-No, it’s alright, really. I’m just… jumpy.” He placed the pot back onto the table, wiping his dirty hands on the front of his jeans.
“Sorry, I just came here ‘cause Professor Sprout told me to. You’re Neville Longbottom, if I’m not mistaken?”
The boy’s heart fluttered in his chest. You knew his name? Moreover, you were looking for him?
“Perfect! I was wondering if you could help me with herbology? I’m usually better at it, but this unit’s been a pain.” You groaned at the thought.
For a few moments, he thought over your request. On one hand, you’re way too cool to be hanging around him and he’d surely make a fool of himself. But on the other hand, he’d get to ramble about his favorite subject and plants without sounding like a smartass.
“Of course.” He shifted back to his plant, and you followed, watching him as he packed the dirt overtop his plant’s roots. “Were you thinking of a time and place at all?” The air suddenly feels so much less loaded.
“Is Friday in the library after classes alright?” You proposed.
That Friday, the pair of you spent numerous hours not only studying, but laughing and conversing, nearly getting killed by Percy Weasley and Snape for losing track of time and staying up too late. He’d never had conversation come so easy with another human being ever. He even struggled to speak with his Gran.
All it took was one night for you and him to become best friends.
Over the next two and a half years, your friendship grew stronger and stronger. You understood each other in ways nobody else could. He knew about your deepest insecurities, and you knew about his. You were able to confide things in one another that you felt you couldn’t anyone else.
It was quiet, steady. Reliable in the way that you knew, no matter what, you could find solace in the other.
And for nearly two of these years of friendship, Neville harbored a big, fat, secret crush on you.
He’d never acted on it, not wanting to cross boundaries and knowing for near certain you didn’t reciprocate. You talked often about other people you found attractive — this actor, that singer, this Slytherin, that Ravenclaw — he could go on.
But that didn’t stop him from wishing.
He’d lay awake at night, wishing on every star that he could gain the courage to ask you out. He could always frame it as just another trip to Hogsmeade and see how you felt. Despite this desire, he never acted. He held too much admiration for you and valued your connection too much.
Little did he know, you had felt the exact same way.
You noticed every little quirk of his: how he nibble on his lip when he focused, the way his eyes shone so bright while talking of a mundane plant, the manner in which he fidgeted with his robes.
You spent many evenings with your girlfriends, gushing about his cute habits and deflecting the idea of just asking him out.
You’d tell them, “no! he doesn’t like me back, I love him too much to jeopardize our friendship.” They’d beg you to stop talking about him, then.
So, you devised a plan, not knowing he was having the exact same thought.
“Hey, Nev!” You chirped as you approached him at breakfast the following morning.
“Hey, morning.” He said back.
“Do you happen to be free this Saturday?” You asked as you scooped an omelette onto your plate, dousing it in salt and pepper.
“Wanna go to Hogsmeade? Just the two of us?” Gods above, you’re coming on too strong.
“Sure! I’d love to. It’s been a while since we hung out one on one.”
It’s true, you spend a lot of time in bigger groups nowadays. Either Seamus or Dean or Ginny or someone tags along to your adventures. You don’t mind it, of course, but you still wish you got more alone time with him.
That evening, Neville repeated the conversation to his friends, only to nearly have them spit out their tea in shock.
“Mate, she clearly asked you out on an implied date!” Dean practically yelled.
“Yeah! “just the two of us,” she wants you so bad!” Seamus affirmed.
“But what if she didn’t? What if you’re just leaning too heavily into things?'“
“Trust me, man, I’ve seen this happen a million times. A girl asks a guy to hang out, and then they just end up snogging all night.”
“Merlin, you lot are awful.”
But Neville was starting to believe them. What if they were right, and you wanted him?
Across the hall, you were having a similar dilemma.
“Oh my god, you did it!” Ginny squealed excitedly.
“Finally! I’ve been waiting for this day since you met the boy!” Lavender added with a grin.
You giggle at their antics, feeling your cheeks heat up under their gazes.
“So what do I wear? I need to dress up a little, so at least he notices, but not so anyone else notices…” You trail off, wondering whether or not a henley would catch his eye. Lavender pipes up immediately.
“Oh, i have the perfect thing for you!” She rushes to her closet, flipped through the hangers, quickly finding a dark mahogany cable knit jumper. She holds it up in delight.
“We all know the boy loves his jumpers, so why not this? Pair it with a cute skirt, some leggings, maybe a headband, and you’ve got him more wrapped around your finger than you do now!”
You smile, taking the garment into your hands a feeling the soft material.
“And that’s your color.” Ginny says with a nod.
From that evening forward, you and Neville both count down the days until Saturday. When the morning comes, you wake up bright and early to get ready. You take an everything shower, putting in extra effort to smell your best with various body lotions and perfumes, and tending carefully to your hair.
Once you’ve gotten clean, dressed yourself, and done your makeup, you feel like a whole new girl.
“Oh, you’re such a doll! Now go get your man!” Lavender says adoringly, before practically shoving you out the door.
Meanwhile, Neville spent the last fifteen minutes waiting in the courtyard for you. For a while, he was terrified you wouldn't show. He’d even taken extra time in styling his curls and deciding an outfit for you!
All of his doubts are calmed when he sees you walking down the damp stone steps in his direction, clad in the most gorgeous sweater he’s ever seen you in. The autumnal leaves dance around you in the breeze, and he swears you came straight out of a romance movie.
“Ready to go?” He asks when you get close enough.
The pair of you walk leisurely down to Hogsmeade, taking a the better part of a half hour to get there. When you arrive, you stroll around, glancing at the shops, until one catches your eye.
“Oh my goodness, we have to go there! C’mon!” You instinctively take Neville’s hand in your own, dragging him along in the direction of the boutique, not knowing the effect some simple hand-holding had on the boy.
Your eyes sparkle as you enter, eyes dancing between the different racks and mannequins of clothing.
“Magnificent?" You finish his sentence, grinning as you turn to face him.
“Yeah. Magnificent.” He mutters back breathlessly.
You spend the next hour and a half leading him about the store like a puppy on a leash, having him judge different jumpers and bottoms and tops, even though he always says they’d look phenomenal on you. He does so with a smile plastered on his face, cheeks flushed, but not from the cold. You even have him pick some things out.
“Isn’t this sweater just darling? Gosh, it’s beautiful.” You say happily. He nods fervently, taking the fabric between his forefinger and thumb.
You hum in return, only to put it right back on the hanger.
“Aren’t you gonna get it?” He asks with a furrowed brow.
“Maybe another time.” You reply, knowing you most definitely won’t. This happens often; you go into a clothing store only to look at things and leave without a bag in hand but your purse.
“I’ll get it for you then.”
“What? Nev, you don’t have—”
“I want to.” He cuts in. “You want it badly, so I’ll get it. It isn’t a big deal.”
If you thought you couldn’t be any more in love with him before, you were wrong. He’d make such a good boyfriend.
And that thought makes you pause.
There’s this pattern between you two that has been consistent since you became friends: you constantly compare him to what a boyfriend should be like. He buys clothing for you, he makes sure you get to bed on time, he carries your bags, he knows your favorite tea and sweets.
Maybe the reason why you haven’t been asked out since being his friend is because everyone thinks you’re dating.
You snap out of it when he speaks up.
“Oh— uhm…” Suddenly, a sweater in the men’s section catches your eye. Its’s a deep blue, with little brown and baby blue accents. You move in that direction, grabbing a large off the rack.
“And who is that rather big jumper for?” The taller boy inquires.
“You, of course. Can’t have you buying something for me and not get you anything in return, can I?”
Neville can feel his cheeks flush at that.
The pair of you pay quickly, before stepping out into the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. Several couples pass by, either holding hands or something similar, and you feel your heart speed up when you catch yourself picturing you and Neville like that.
As you fall into pace with the crowd, your hand drifts closer to his, until you finally take his clammy hand in your own. His fingers are slender and surprisingly soft. Your thumb rubs over the back of his hand.
For a while, you two just walk silently, no stores catching either of your eyes, until you come upon a secluded, quiet area near an old coffee shop that overlooks the Black Lake.
You sit down on a damp bench, side by side, thighs touching, your hand still tangled in his.
Over the course of the next five minutes, the silence becomes suffocating. Not because it’s tense, or angry, but because it’s so suspenseful — like both of you are waiting for the other to speak.
You finally turn to face him when it becomes unbearable.
The boy trembles beneath your gaze. His legs bounces up and down rapidly.
He slowly turns his head, and when his gaze finally meets yours, he breaks. You’re just too beautiful, too entrancing, he can’t help it. His lip quivers as he leans in, a shaky hand coming up to your jaw.
The second your lips touch, fireworks set off in your stomach. You lean into his touch, pressing more firmly against him, chasing the taste of him.
After a short moment, you draw back. But it hardly lasts before you’re both diving in for more, devouring one another’s mouth with a tender fervor. You’re both hungry for the other, but in the least lustful way one can imagine.
Your lips move and slide against his — hesitant at first — but quickly building confidence. Your hand comes up, caressing his cheek oh so softly. His own grips your jaw harder.
When you finally pull away, panting, you search his eyes, only to find the emotion that mirrors your own exactly: love.
“I think I’m in love with you.” You blurt.
Except, somehow, this time, Neville doesn’t flinch. He isn’t shocked or confused, because those words are the most natural thing to come from your lips and reach his ears.
“I love you too. All of you.”
He leans in, softer this time, savoring the taste of your mouth instead of consuming it.
You stay like there together for a while. By the time you decide to walk back to the dorms, it’s almost curfew, and you need to sneak around to avoid getting caught. But it’s all worth it to get to kiss Neville goodnight in front of everyone in the dormitory.
