No More Waiting
for gryffindor100, prompt: after
"Neville."
Breathless, Harry makes his way across the Great Hall. The injured, the battered, the dead, litter the Hogwarts grounds. The living call his name. He waves to them, barely hearing the cheers, the cries.
Neville waits for him, smiling, still clutching Gryffindor's sword.
"We did it!" He throws himself into Neville's arms.
Surprised, Neville hugs him back. "You're the hero, Harry."
Harry thinks Neville is too modest. He kept Dumbledore's Army alive, protected the students, killed the snake. Harry lifts his head to kiss him.
"People are watching," Neville protests.
"I don't care."
Neville smiles, and kisses him back.
Order of Merlin, First Class
For phoenix_flies, prompt: "I'd take you where nobody knows you/And nobody gives a damn"
Two medals hung in the study, both Order of Merlin, First Class. One, predictably, announced Harry Potter's name in bold letters (and in a regal voice to anyone who came near it) and the other proclaimed Neville Longbottom, the defender of the weak and defeater of one-seventh of Voldemort's soul, a war hero.
Most of the time, however, the medals sat forgotten in the little-used room. Neville didn't think of himself as a hero, and Harry still tried to be a normal wizard. When they were home, all that mattered was the warm kisses, comfortable conversation, and their life together.
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