Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Neville watched her across the room. She was talking to Seamus and laughing, her hand moved her long hair behind her shoulder, and he admired the graceful curve of her neck and the pale flush on her cheeks from the wine she was drinking. Her laughter was real, no delicate tinkling or soft giggle. When she laughed, it was honest and loud. It made her entire face light up with her happiness and amusement. He always found her beautiful, had since she was a first year and she'd helped him find Trevor on the train. She'd had horrible hair and big teeth and he thought she was an angel. She'd grown into her hair, though it was still unruly and wild in a way that matched her personality, the one few people got to witness, and her teeth had been fixed since fourth year. Others only noticed her beauty when she drew attention to it, which wasn't often at all. She wasn't one for the fuss and time it took to draw that sort of attention. He loved that she was natural and didn't care what anyone thought, that she pleased herself and to hell with whether or not anyone else thought she was pretty. When she laughed, though, others saw what he always saw. Beauty, confidence it had taken her years to grow into, a commanding presence that allowed her to give speechs and lectures that made people Listen, and a sexiness that hinted at the wicked girl she could sometimes be in private. He smiled when she turned to look at him and winked. Neville walked across the room and put his hand on her back, her head leaned against his shoulder, and he couldn't resist smiling smugly at the envious look Seamus gave him. He'd waited patiently for her, through her relationship with Ron, through the War, through the break-up with Ron, through a disasterous affair with Smith, and his patience had finally been rewarded when she'd looked at him and smiled one night during dinner. When she'd kissed him, he'd been hers. No, that was wrong. He looked at his wife and grinned. He'd been hers since that first day on the train.