Chapter 16
“Hey, Theo! Wait!”
Theo turned and spotted Neville running down the corridor to catch up with him, an unusually serious expression on his face.
“You okay, Neville?”
The Gryffindor inhaled and exhaled deeply, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Not an okay declaration, it seemed.
“Are you busy? Can we talk for a moment?”
Theo frowned. “Do I need to worry?”
Neville looked around the empty corridor, then stepped closer and lowered his voice for good measure.
“It’s a men’s thing and I need advice from someone like you.”
Theo’s frown deepened. “Like me..how?”
Neville narrowed his eyes. “Someone that has what you have with Hermione. You know,” he said, his head almost touching Theo’s, his voice barely a whisper now, “sexual intercourse.”
Theo cocked a brow and managed not to laugh in his face, just because he had been caught too off guard to react properly.
“Oh, that,” he simply said, immediately pressing his lips together to keep them straight, then nodded towards the stairs at the end of the corridor.
“I was going to the Owlery to post a letter. Walk with me and tell me everything, will you?” he suggested, moving a couple of slow steps. Neville followed him, but stayed silent for a while.
"All right, get it out. What's the matter?" Theo asked when they started to climb the stairs.
Neville nervously adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "It's Valentine's Day in two days."
Theo nodded, but Neville didn't say anything more. He turned and saw him staring at his moving feet intently. Maybe he needed a little nudge.
"Yes, I know. Have you planned anything special for Hannah?"
"I'm taking her to Edinburgh. I asked McGonagall for permission to have dinner in a romantic restaurant there and come back a little after curfew," Neville explained, the lines of his face softer.
"She agreed, didn't she? McGonagall, I mean," Theo asked, already knowing the answer.
Neville's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, and she was very quick actually. In fact, she was a bit weird about it. She congratulated with me for the simple idea, very easy to accomplish, that didn't need paperwork to be signed. That's what she said, can you believe it? Why would someone need to sign paperwork for a dinner date?"
Theo coughed, successfully covering a chuckle that had escaped his control.
"McGonagall is quite cryptic sometimes. Maybe it's the Headmistress position that requires it," he brushed it away, pushing his hands in the pockets of his robes and the thought of repurposed Portkeys and favors asked in the back of his mind. "Anyways, why are you worried? It seems a pretty solid date to me, Hannah will be over the moon."
Tension reappeared and stretched Neville's face downwards.
"Well...Hannah and I...we haven't, you know...And I thought that maybe I would make a move that night, but I don't know if she’s ready for that and..." he stammered, wringing his hands furiously. Theo halted at the top of the stairwell and grabbed his arm.
"Wait a minute. You and Hannah haven't had sex yet?" he asked, a little confused.
Neville shook his head, blushing and getting even more agitated. "But we have done other stuff, you know? I mean, almost all the other physical stuff, like..."
"Hold your horses cowboy, that’s not what I meant,” Theo cut in, his brows jumping up. “It’s totally fine to take things slow, I wasn’t judging at all. It’s just that, with the amount of hickeys you constantly fail to cover, I thought you two were shagging like rabbits!”
Neville became beetroot red and scratched his chin. “Yeah, well, we do a lot of touching and kissing. Hannah loves it, I think. I mean, she is quite…vocal.”
Theo smirked and patted him on the back. “That is a great sign, usually. And during the kissing and touching, does she ever ask for more?”
Neville cleared his throat. “Well, yes, sometimes she does, especially when I use my fingers, you know…” he explained, gesturing vaguely to the downward regions.
“And what do you do when she asks?” Theo inquired.
Neville’s cheeks were going a slight shade of puce. “Add a finger?”
Theo solemnly nodded, then hummed while considering how to put it into gentle words that Hannah had been probably ready for a while and Neville had completely missed her pretty clear hints.
“Neville, may I be honest with you?”
The Gryffindor nodded, his eyes full of dread. They were just outside the Owlery. Theo stopped and turned to face him openly.
“You’re overthinking this, mate. You two have been together for a while now, and your physical interactions are more than fine. I really don’t think she’ll hex your cock off if you hint at pushing things further,” he said, and Neville flinched a little, “but the best advice I can give you is quite simple. Just talk to her, ask her what she wants, what she likes, if she wants to go there with you. It’s really the only secret for a successful and healthy relationship, mate, believe me.”
Neville mulled over his words, eyes trained on the tips of his shoes. “What if I embarrass myself and she laughs?”
Theo squeezed his shoulder. “Hannah loves you, Neville. It won’t happen.”
Neville observed him, not totally convinced. “What if she’s not ready? What if I seem too eager and she…”
“Hey,” Theo stopped him, shaking him a little. “Stop overthinking. We’re talking about nothing, mate, really. I’ll tell you how it’ll go. You’ll kiss her and worship her until it will feel natural to go over that edge. Just look her in the eyes and wait for her to allow you. If she doesn’t, just…add a finger and wait a little more,” he smirked.
“Merlin, now that you put it like this… I think I missed her clue a couple of times,” Neville nervously chuckled.
Theo laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “See? You just need to get out of your head!”
Neville sighed, a big smile stretching his lips. “Thank you, Theo. You’re a great friend.”
Theo blinked, a strange tickle in his chest. Friend. That word had meant an entirely different set of things to him in the past, but now, with Neville, he realized that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe being friends entailed something else, something brighter and lighter. Something easier and safer.
He shook his head, a warmer smile on his face.
“Yeah, especially because I’m about to tell you some useful stuff,” he teased, pushing the door to the Owlery open.
Neville frowned. “What stuff?”
Theo turned and winked over his shoulder. “How to be a lover instead of just a fucker, for example.”
***********
Hermione’s heels clicked on the cobblestones of the Eternal City, while crossing the bridge that led to Castel Sant’Angelo, the towering Mausoleum of Adrian and stunning papal fortress. The sky was already dark and there weren’t stars shining through the February clouds, but the rotunda was basking in golden lights, smooth shadows pooling in the crevices of the windows and battlements running around the main body of the castle. Tall statues of mighty angels watched down on them, their eyes void and yet somehow judging. Hermione held her breath and looked up at the one towering on the roof of the castle, his arm angled to sheathe his sword, as if declaring some kind of battle was over.
“Legend wants that in 590 people were dying of Plague and were desperate, so the Pope led a procession, pleading God to spare them. During that, an angel flew over the bridge and stood on the mausoleum, holstering his weapon, signaling that God’s wrath was over,” Theo told her, his deep voice caressing her ears in the silence of night.
“It’s so…dramatic. It makes me feel so small and powerless and yet, to think that men built this…” she trailed off, her eyes taking in the staggering image of the golden castle against the stark black of the sky.
Theo smirked. “Then you’re not ready for what’s next, Granger.”
He squeezed her fingers in his and led her left, away from Castel Sant’Angelo and towards an empty street that ran along the river for a bit.
Rome was asleep, with only the occasional moped speeding and rumbling in the cool air of Valentine’s Day. Hermione had never been in Italy, but it had definitely been on her list of places to see, and quite high actually.
History was scattered everywhere in Italian cities. Amongst modern cars and shop signs, you could find buildings that had seen emperors and knights and poets walk the Earth while things were easier and more difficult at the same time. The very cobblestone was brimming with stories of a past that had scarred humanity in every possible way.
And Rome was The City, the core of civilization, a focal point that had attracted life and growth like a magnet in a box of iron shavings. The air was heavy with memories, even if you couldn’t remember them, they were there, hanging between fountains and windows, towers and obelisks, statues and ruins. There was blood under the surface, there was laughter in the corners, there was grandeur in the small joints between stones that built everything. And she could feel it all.
They entered a street flanked by low buildings and square columns, each topped with a lit lantern, liquid lights strung together in a line that led the eyes towards an astonishing view.
“God…” Hermione whispered, her lips parting in awe. Theo smiled, his eyes trained on the silhouette of Saint Peter’s Basilica. Even in the gloomy night, with parts in the shadows, it was breathtaking. Theo felt Hermione slow down, but he didn’t let her, there was another shock for her to face before halting and contemplating. He guided her forward and stole a glance at her face, when they walked past the final buildings and into a wide opening where the columns became higher and rounded. She gasped when her eyes took in the piazza, embraced by the arms of the colonnade, and the Basilica was right there in front of them, as magnificent as ever in all its glory.
“Theo this is…” she whispered, gaze flicking back and forth and up and down, glittering like water drops in the sun. “I don’t know how to thank you for this,” she finally said, a stunned smile spreading on her lips.
“Do you want to look inside?” he asked, nonchalance dripping from every word, despite his heart was trembling in his chest.
Hermione slowly turned to him, shock etched in every line of her incredulous face. “What?”
He smiled, dimple appearing smugly, and he took a step forward. “Come on.”
She was rooted to the spot, her legs heavy as stones, her mouth hanging open like a fish. But somehow she managed to follow him, heart in her throat. She was getting inside the Basilica, at night, when it was closed to everyone else.
“Theo, how?” she breathed out, on the steps, the main portal getting closer.
“I pulled some strings,” he said, a secret in his ocean eyes. “You should ask McGonagall, I’m sure she’ll love to tell you all about how happy she was to fill in the paperwork,” he added smirking again, a chuckle forming in his throat.
They went past opened gates and an open portal and when they finally stepped inside, Hermione felt like she was going to faint.
There was so much, she didn’t know where to look first. Her heart ran wild in her chest, knocking hard against her ribs, breaths coming out short and quick. She took a few steps, not even realizing Theo had let go of her hand. Her feet took her down the endless central nave, her eyes roaming around, drinking everything in with a fevered glint. When she reached the bronze Baldacchino, with his twirling columns reaching up and up and up, she canted her head back and lost herself in the grandiose dome, its mosaics resplendent in the artificial lights.
Hermione wanted to cry.
It was too much to take in and hold in her chest, too much to handle, and yet she basked in the glory of that artistic heritage and let it sink under her skin, let it sit into her mind, let it latch onto her soul.
Theo was right behind her, his hands coming to rest on her waist and she inhaled deeply, to anchor this beautiful memory to his pure essence.
“Thank you Theo, this is stunning,” she murmured, still gazing around in disbelief.
“Stunning,” he echoed, but his eyes were taking her in.