Inescapable | Drarry + Bleville ✔︎

Chapter 45

Trigger warning: homophobia and self-harm.

Neville's POV:

Blaise and Neville sat at a table with his grandmother.

"I wanted to tell you but I was afraid you'd be mad or hate me or... ask me about my sexuality." Neville says.

"Why would asking you about your sexuality to be a problem?" His grandmother asks.

"Well... I don't exactly know what it is... I mean, I've only ever had feelings for him." Neville says.

"You've always been a late bloomer, Neville. You never know... Maybe this is just a phase."

"But it's not! I like him, I really do!" Neville says.

His grandmother sighs, "How long has this been going on?"

"Since after the war. We had been talking before this. I began to have feelings for him before that... But then we had the same patronus and-"

"Really? Are you sure you didn't see it wrong?" His grandmother asks with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, grandmum. I know what I saw. He saw it too!" Neville gestures to Blaise. "We really like each other... He... He loves me!"

"I honestly just think you two went through some traumatic events and now because you endured it together you both think you have feelings for each other."

"No, grandmum. Really! He's had feelings for me for a long time and-"

"But you haven't?" His grandmother asks.

"No, but-"

"Let's get you home." His grandmother says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from Blaise.

She apparates him home and puts a finger in his face. She only does that to scold him.

"You never are to see that wretched boy again! He is poisoning your mind!" His grandmother shouts.

"No! You don't understand! He taught me how to fly! He makes me happy!" He shouts.

"Don't raise your voice at me! My word is final! I am so dissappointed. You know what I've told you about this! You're letting this aftermath of the war turn you to bad things. What's next, alcohol?!" As his grandmother lectures his, he feels tears well up in his eyes. "Just go to your room." She says, waving him away.

He walks off without another word. He locks himself in his bedroom and lets the tears flow out. He cries and cries with his blanket over his head. He holds it tight to himself, worrying if this will be one of the only things he'll have left of Blaise.

He quickly grabs a quill and parchment. He dips his quill in ink and begins to write shakily.

"To Blaise, I worry that this will be the last time we talk. My grandmother says I can't see you anymore. It hurts so much. You've treated me so well and I care about you so much, but this could be goodbye. I'm sorry. I want to fix it but I can't. I don't want to let you go but I have no choice. Please, if I don't ever see or talk to you again, please move on. For me. I am begging you. Don't be alone forever because of me. I thank you for everything you've done and I'll miss you incredibly. I'm so so sorry. Goodbye - Neville."

His hand shakes as he gives it to his owl and it flies away. He lays back down on his bed and cries more. He didn't understand why it hurt so much. Why did it feel like he was going to die?

He wishes he had some chocolate, or perhaps a treacle tart, to make him forget it all. But he didn't want to leave his room and come face to face with his grandmother. Not now, not ever again.