Interlude the Fourth
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor Boys' Dormitories
The Gryffindor dormitory was quiet, except for the faint creak of the old wooden beds as Dean adjusted his position and Seamus tossed and turned.
"Oi, Dean," Seamus said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.
"What?" Dean muttered sleepily, not looking up from the pages of a Quidditch magazine he'd nicked from Ron's side of the room.
"You ever notice Neville gets all...weird when Cassidy Sweet's around?"
Dean glanced up, raising a brow. "Weird? How?"
Seamus propped himself up on his elbows, whispering like Neville wasn't two beds over. "You know, weird—he trips over his own feet, turns red when she says his name, and when she laughs? Forget it. He looks like he's been hit by a cheering charm."
Dean snorted, folding the corner of his page. "You've got a point. I've seen him stutter so bad in Potions when she's around, Snape told him to sit down before he set himself on fire."
From the bed furthest from the door, Neville groaned, yanking the blanket over his head. "Could you not talk about me like I'm not here?"
Seamus and Dean exchanged grins, not missing the faint tremor of embarrassment in Neville's voice.
"Alright then," Seamus said, turning to him. "Why do you act so weird around her, eh?"
"I don't act weird," Neville muttered, though his voice was muffled.
"Mate," Dean said, leaning over the side of his bed, "you act like she's the only witch in Hogwarts. Don't tell me you don't like her."
Neville's head popped out from under the blanket, his face scarlet. "I don't! I mean...not like that."
"Not like that, my foot," Seamus teased. "You've got the same look my brother gets when Mum makes treacle tart."
Neville glared at him, but it was hard to be intimidating when his ears were practically glowing.
Dean laughed softly. "It's fine, Neville. She's brilliant—I'd fancy her if I were you, too."
"I don't—" Neville started, then faltered. He sighed, sitting up and hugging his knees. "She's just...nice, alright? She doesn't laugh at me when I mess up, and she's really good at standing up to people—even Malfoy. And..." He hesitated, voice dropping. "She said I was brave once."
The room went quiet for a moment.
Dean smiled, leaning back on his pillow. "Well, there's nothing wrong with that. She likes you as a friend, at least."
"Yeah," Seamus added, lying back with a yawn. "And who knows? Maybe one day, she'll like you more than that. Stranger things've happened."
Neville didn't reply, but he couldn't help the small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips as he lay back down.