ϟ 𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝑷𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 ϟ

Nicknames

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A/N: Takes place in seventh year. Voldy never happened, and Tom is watching the quidditch game and just as entertained for his Slytherin quidditch friends as the Gryffindors are for theirs. :)

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You've known Neville since first year, obviously, but never really interacted much with him. Sure, you were friends with the golden trio, but that was about it. Occasional words were exchanged, maybe passing through the hall and seeing the other, but you never really though much of him.

Not until recently, at least. It was now seventh year.

As of a several months ago, you'd started getting to know him better, as he was hanging out with you and the trio more often. Only then had you noticed how good-looking he actually was; his dark hair looked soft, and his face was still quite round, just starting to angle out as he grew older and more mature. He had kind eyes, and an overall appealing look to him.

You had started growing close to him, like a best friend. Though, after a little while of interaction, you had started to fancy him.

He was also a gentleman, which didn't help your growing feelings for him.

You hoped he felt the same way about you, but you probably wouldn't know for God knows how long. You acted normal around him, however, just letting whatever was happening run its course and riding along.

One day, you came up with a cute nickname for him that you thought he might like, and decided to use it the next time you saw him, which would be at a quidditch practice match between Gryffindor and Slytherin you both planned on watching.

You exited the school to meet up with Neville and sit by him in the stands to watch the practice game. Once you got up to where the Gryffindors sat, you looked around before you spotted the boy waving at you. You grinned and approached where he sat, a saved seat for you just to his left. You sat down, smiling at him before looking down at the pitch.

Unbeknownst to you, the smile you sent him made his heart flutter. He'd been feeling that more often, lately, he noticed.

He stared at the side of your gleeful face for a moment before he, too, looked down at the pitch.

After Madam Hooch threw the quaffle into the air, the game commenced and all hell broke loose.

Beaters were batting the bludger around, the chasers were carrying the quaffle toward the hoops to attempt a goal, the keepers were flying around and preventing the quaffle from being thrown through the hoops, the seekers were zooming around and trying to catch the snitch as usual.

Every time a Gryffindor goal was made, you and Neville cheered and clapped your hands together before watching the match again in excitement.

You saw Harry getting close to the snitch, and your heart skipped a beat when Draco got close to slamming into him and knocking him off his broom. "Nev, look," you nearly shouted, pointing down at the two seekers, "Harry missed a bullet! Malfoy tried knocking him off of his broom!"

Neville chuckled and nodded, having seen it, too, before he froze. You didn't call him Neville, you called him "Nev".

He looked at you quizzically, a little bit of amusement mixed in. "'Nev'?" he asked, grinning.

You turned to him, momentarily confused. Then, you realized.

You both had completely tuned out the game going on in the background to focus on the other.

"Oh, the nickname?"

He nodded.

You guessed that you were already dead set on calling him "Nev", so that you did it without realizing it. You chuckled nervously. "It's fine if I call you that, right?"

His eyebrows furrowed as a small frown formed on his face. "Of course it's fine," he replied, turning his body to face you, "you don't have to ask that."

You let out a breath of relief. "Thank goodness, I came up with the nickname yesterday and thought it was cute, so I guess I used it without realizing."

He grinned. "It is a cute nickname," he replied, "I guess I have to come up with one for you, now, too."

You felt a blush heat up your face, and you looked away from his eyes.

"I think that would be nice..."

"Then it's settled," he said, clapping his hands once as he leaned back in his chair, "you can call me 'Nev' and I'll call you..." He trailed off, thinking hard for something to use as a nickname. "...what about N/N?"

You perked up at that, nodding.

He let out an airy laugh through his nose. "Perfect," he muttered, having not looked away from you once.

A sheepish smile and blush grew on your face, and you fiddled with your fingers as you looked toward the game once more.

Neville noticed the nervous habit, knowing he tended to do the same thing when he was nervous.

You tried to ignore the soft, sweet eyes that were studying you and focus on the game before a warm touch on your hand broke that focus. You looked at him as he held onto your hand, but he was watching the game with a small satisfied smile.

A stupid grin made its way onto your face again, and you entwined your fingers with his as you tuned back into the exciting quidditch match.

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