When we align; a Neville Longbottom fanfiction

32. Holly Jolly Christmas

Being around Neville was harder than usual in the days after the gathering. Cass would catch him looking at her and immediately looking away, his cheeks a faint tint of pink. She would blush at anything he'd do and jump at the sound of his voice.

One afternoon, while she was handing him a spare piece of parchment, his fingers accidentally brushed on her hand. Cass yelped and retrieved her hand, making the parchment fall to the ground. As Neville bent to pick it up, she went to exit the room.

"Are you mad about the other night? 'Cause I only said it for the game. It didn't mean anything."

"Right," she responded immediately, still with her back turned. "It didn't mean anything." She drew a breath before turning around and smiling reassuringly. "I'm not mad. Just glad that you have good taste." She chuckled.

"Yeah," Neville gave a breathy laugh before shaking his head, "I mean, uh, thanks?"

The awkwardness covered their relationship like the thick layer of snow did the ground in mid-November. Cass knew that his revelation didn't mean anything, but hearing him pronounce those words outright hurt. There was a glint of hope that had ignited in her chest, that night. In truth, a realisation way deeper had awakened in her and was now lying heavy in her body. Her feelings for Neville had always flowed stronger than she'd ever imagined, and not being able to talk to him like she used to brought a mighty wave of pain to which she wasn't quite accustomed to.

Neville did not want to talk to her any more than necessary. That was clear. Usually, she would have let it go. He would come to his senses. Only, part of her feared that he might not be able to, that the list had etched a dent in their friendship from which they wouldn't be able to recover.

After her lesson with the second-years, she decided to talk to him. The irony of the reversal of their roles flashed in her thoughts for a moment. Years before, Neville would have been the one to call her out, as per her request. He had played the role extremely well, but it was now her turn. She needed to call him out.

She marched into his office, arms folded over her chest. "What are you doing?"

He looked at her with an expression that reminded Cass of their first encounter. Fearful, confused, maybe a little... hopeful? When he answered, his tone was nonchalant. "Grading essays. Why?"

"No, I mean..." she dropped her arms.  "You've been avoiding me."

He gave a nervous chuckle. "No, I haven't."

"Oh, right, 'cause I haven't seen you in a week. That's completely normal." She rolled her eyes and quirked an eyebrow. "Is this about the list?"

"No!" He put his hands up, defensively. "No, it's..." He stared through her. "Hannah."

"Hann-?"

"Hello, muffin." A voice behind Cass made her jump. "Cassandra." Hannah stood in the doorway, holding a paper bag with both hands.

"Hey, Hannah, how's it going?" Cass tried to sound as genuine as possible.

Neville seemed almost irritated by her presence. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd surprise you! I had a free day from school, thought I'd tag along."

Cass looked from Hannah to Neville and sighed. "Well, have a good day, you two."

"Thanks." Hannah had never shown outright hostility to her, but her tone was colder than what Cass remembered. She gave Cass a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she observed her exit the office.