Well, them.

"There? You see?"

He nods, though he doesn't, and pretends he's understanding more than every third word or so that's come out of Hermione's mouth since they sat down. It's not that he's stupid, because he's not…Potions aside. It's just that she talks as if he knows everything she knows already, which would make the whole study session pointless, though he doesn't point that out to her, though he does wish that he'd opted for the library.

It's a much less hostile environment.

He glances over at Ron again then tells himself to focus on the book and the words and, most of all, on Hermione, because she's taking time out of her busy schedule to help him with this and he really is grateful, even if he hasn't heard or understood all but three sentences in the last half hour.

"Er, Hermione?"

She blinks, surprised to be interrupted, no doubt. "Yes, Neville?"

"I…well, it's just…" He feels the blush rising and rolls his eyes mentally, because blushing around Hermione is something he just seems to keep doing, which just infuriates Ron who, even though he's not done anything about it, has always thought of Hermione as *his*. Blushing, to Ron, means Neville is smitten, though he's not, because to Neville, blushing means embarrassed, and he's really got quite enough to be embarrassed about without bringing his… well, bringing that into it, although now that he's thinking about *that*, he's got that to worry about as well.

"Did you want to take a break?"

"I was thinking I'd go to the library to study." He forces himself not to pay attention to Ron's gaze burning a scorch mark onto his skull or the feeling that his hair is about to burst into flames. "I'm having a big of a hard time," he coughs as the double meaning hits him, blushing in earnest this time, "er, concentrating."

"Of course, Neville. It's actually a brilliant idea. Let me get my things and we'll go." She gathers her books, completely oblivious to the fact that Ron's liable to strangle Neville before he actually makes it to the portrait hole and the fact that Neville's not actually capable of getting up - bad choice of words there - and walking to said portrait hole without becoming a very prominent source or ridicule.

"I was…well, actually thinking I should go off by myself. Do a little bit more studying before we study." He manages a smile, though her frown almost breaks it. "I've not understood half of it, Hermione. Not," he interjects quickly as a small frown appears between her eyes, "because you're not a good teacher, because you are. It's just that you're much better at this than I am, and you give me far more credit than I deserve when it comes to understanding this."

"I think you give yourself far too little credit." She sighs and shrugs, and he can see something in her face that he feels really bad that he put there, even if he doesn't know what in the world it could be. "Tomorrow then?"

"Sure. That'd be…that'd be smashing. Thanks." He grabs his books and stands, edging around the table and skirting wide of Ron and Harry's game of Exploding Snap. Ron's eyes follow him to the door, as do Hermione's, and he's not sure which bothers him more.

"You fancy her, don't you?"

"I don't! I swear!" Neville shakes his head adamantly, his eyes focused on Ron's hands, balled into fists at his sides. "She's just helping me study."

"What subject?" Malfoy drolls from a few feet away, surprising both Ron and Neville. "Because from what I saw the other day, it certainly wasn't anything on the schedule here at Hogwarts."

Harry catches Ron's fist before he can truly swing it, reminding him that Malfoy's just baiting him. It does little to keep Neville's knees from buckling and he hangs onto the brick wall for support. He clears his throat, horrified when the sound brings Ron's gaze right back to his. "I've no interest in Hermione, Ron."

"Then why'd you bloody ask her to the Yule ball?"

Neville blinks slowly, slower than he really thought possible. "That was two years ago, Ron."

"I know. But still. If you didn't fancy her, then why?"

"Well, she's a girl. And nice. And pretty." He holds his hands up in defense as Ron's fists tighten again. "Not that I want to shag her…"

"Shag!?"

"Er, snog her or anything, Ron, really. I mean, I just thought that she and I were friends and so I asked."

Ron seems to calm slightly, enough that he steps back and gives Neville a bit of breathing room. Of course, it doesn't help much, as Neville can't seem to catch any breath at all. Might have something to do with the spell keeping him pinned to the wall by his neck.

"Er, Ron?"

"Oh. Right." Ron releases him and Neville inhales deeply. "Sorry."

"I know you like her, Ron."

"I do not!"

Neville ignores him magnificently. "And I'd certainly never go after her. Besides, if I ever did, you know she'd expect me to know more than I do or, worse yet, instruct me on things that I never want to be lectured about." He almost grins, watching Ron's eyes widen in horror. "I'm perfectly content with her as a study partner."

"In…instruct?" Ron turns his wide, frightened gaze to Harry and Neville slips away, breathing in the suddenly sweeter air.

Neville realizes what he's been doing halfway through Herbology and nearly drops his Noxious Nasturtium and sends the whole class to the hospital wing. He catches it in time, only spilling enough of the soil to burn a small hole in the wooden potting table. Hermione glances up from where she's working beside him and takes his hand, making sure he hasn't burned through the dragon hide gloves. "Are you all right, Neville?"

His voice shakes a bit as he assures her that he is, though his hand is steady in hers. He looks away from the plant - nearly as dangerous as dropping it - and smiles at her, trying not to notice the low growl from across the table or the sudden quick pace of his heart. He smiles at her again, howling in sudden sharp pain as the leaves of the plant wrap around his wrist just between his glove and his sleeve, stinging nettles embedding themselves in his skin.

Professor Sprout hurries over and everyone crowds around Neville, Hermione and Ron at either side, though he's not quite sure how Ron got there so quickly. "I'll take him to the hospital wing, Professor Sprout," Hermione offers, Professor Sprout's agreement drowned out by Ron's disapproval.

"I'll do it." His tone brooks no argument, even from Sprout and Neville looks at Hermione. Her eyes are narrowed in Ron's direction and he's suddenly wishing he were anywhere but right between them. "Professor Sprout needs someone to help demonstrate now that Neville's hurt," Ron's reasonable tone is cool and deliberate. "And we all know you'd be far better at it than I would, Hermione. I'll take Neville." His hand tightens around Neville's upper arm and he jerks him, starting toward the classroom doorway. "You'll not even notice we're gone."

"All right," Ron slams Neville against the wall and pins him there, his hand wrapped tightly around Neville's wrist. "I'm going to say this once and only once."

Neville nods, scarcely breathing.

"You're to stay away from Hermione. She likes bossing people around and you let her and she likes that, so that means she likes you and that's not to happen." He takes a deep breath. "And don't start prattling on about how I fancy her, because that's not what this is about. Hermione's my friend and she doesn't need some bloke…"

Neville nods again, wrapping his free hand around Ron's neck and pulling him forward, shutting him up with a kiss. Ron gasps in surprise, the quick inhalation allowing Neville to slide his tongue into Ron's mouth as his fingers dig into the soft flesh at the base of Ron's skull.

Ron's hand tightens around Neville's wrist, his tongue warring with Neville's as it thrusts past Ron's parted lips. Ron groans low, his body angling closer as he holds Neville against the wall, long fingers still circling his wrist as their hips collide.

Neville's shocked moan fills the hall around them as the hard press of Ron's cock encounters his. His hand threads into the long thick shock of Ron's hair and he clutches at the strands, tightening his grip as Ron bites at his lips, their hips rocking in a frantic rhythm.

Ron jerks back and stumbles away. Neville grasps his hand where Ron held him, the dark wisps of the plant tendrils almost invisible beneath the rising rough purple bruises that Ron left behind. He looks up as Ron pants harshly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I wouldn't do that."

"Do what?" Ron snaps, his voice high and shrill. "Snog someone who's supposed to be your bloody mate, not some bloody queer?"

"Er, no." Neville gestures toward Ron's hand just as the redhead runs it through his hair. "You touched the marks with that hand. It's likely to start…" he pauses as Ron howls in pain. "Stinging."

"You're a bloody fucking menace," Ron informs him. "Come on." He turns sharply and hurries toward the hospital wing, not looking back as Neville follows him at a slower pace. Ron stops and whirls around, his finger scant centimeters from Neville's face. "No one knows about what just happened, do you understand?"

Neville nods. "Of course."

"Not Luna. Not Harry." Ron flushes hotly and turns again then stops, grabbing and pinning Neville to the wall again, kissing him fast, hot and hard. He jerks back. "And not bloody Hermione."

Neville falls in step with him, unable to contain his smile. "I told you I wasn't interested in her."