**********
Drawn Together
By
EntreNous
**********



When it first happened, Neville was completely mystified as to how it came about.

One moment he had been getting into his bed, pulling the covers up and sighing as he relaxed and felt himself begin to fall asleep.

The next thing he knew, he was mid-air, precariously perched on a broom, and yelping as he found himself thrown into a break-neck dive for the ground.

There was shouting around him, a flurry of action in the air to his right and left, and before he had time to throw his arms up to block the sight of his horrible and inevitable crash, he was hanging in the air, held up between two flyers on their own brooms.

"Neville?" one of them asked in an incredulous voice.

"Blimey, how did he just show up out of nowhere?" the other asked.

"Harry, Ron," Neville panted. "Hallo. Would you mind terribly setting me down?"

"Oh, of course," Harry answered, and with a nod for Ron, helped to maneuver Neville until he once again stood on solid ground.

Harry scratched his head and leaned against his broom while Ron brushed down Neville's shoulders and arms, as though he had somehow flown into a cloud of dust in the few moments he had been aloft.

"All right?" Ron asked, his blue eyes focused anxiously on Neville.

"Yes. At least, I think so. I mean --" Neville cleared his throat and gestured towards their brooms. "What are you doing flying about in the middle of the night?"

Harry laughed. "What are we doing flying about? Well, Auror training sometimes runs to all hours of the night, and it can leave a wizard jittery. Since we have this open field so close to where we're living, Ron and I were having a game of one-on-one Quidditch to wind down."

"What's your excuse?" Ron asked. He seemed genuinely curious, but for some reason it made Neville feel twice as embarrassed to be caught in the middle of something he didn't understand.

"I didn't mean to be here," he said truthfully. "I'm not certain how exactly it happened. I was just falling asleep in my bed when it seemed to happen."

"Nice nightshirt, by the way," Ron commented.

Neville felt his cheeks flush.

"Well, Ron was just about to make up a batch of his mother's Cauldron Cakes," Harry said, clapping him on the shoulder and leading Neville forward. "Care to join us?"

"Hey," Ron protested as he followed. "I mean, yeah, cauldron cakes sound good, but I never said I would make them. Shouldn't we be a bit more worried that Neville is popping into the middle of impromptu Quidditch rounds when he means to be in bed, instead of trying to foist making a late meal on me?"

Harry glanced back at Ron, and then gave Neville a considering look. "I expect he just had flying on the brain more than he realized."

Neville hurried to keep up with Harry while casting backwards glances to make sure Ron was coming, wondering how he could possibly have flying on the brain when he really hated flying, was pants at Quidditch, and, as far as he knew, did not own a broom.



*~*



The next time something odd happened, Neville felt even more confused. After all, he had asked Harry round to fix some protection charms in his bedroom so that he wouldn't be prone to bouts of unexpected Night Flying (which he had sorted out in his head was probably similar to sleepwalking). Though part of him wondered why he had somehow propelled himself from one spot, where he very much wanted to be, to another spot, where he had no business being, he felt the main work now was to ensure something like it didn't happen again instead of poking at the reasons why it could have happened.

When Ron showed up to perform the charms rather than Harry, Neville had been taken aback, but then thought it was probably for the best Ron was the one helping out. After all, Harry got quite busy, mixed up in all sorts of complicated things, and he might be a bit too distracted to do something so simple as make sure Neville remained safely under his covers all night long. Ron was more the man to focus on matters a hand, and make sure Neville stayed put. Besides, Ron stayed around for curry instead of rushing off to a girlfriend, the way Harry would have done with Ginny, and returned the next evening just to make sure the protections were all still in place (and to offer to buy Neville a sundae at Fortescue's).

Since his bedroom had been adequately protected, then, Neville imagined he could rest easy and not worry he would experience a repeat incident like the first. Not that he hadn't ended up enjoying the outcome of his unexpected flight and intrusion into Ron and Harry's late night activities. Ron did make exceptionally delicious Cauldron Cakes, and Nevile found it much easier to talk to both Ron and Harry now that they were all out of school.

In fact, when Harry excused himself an hour after they had come inside to go to his bedroom, Neville had felt so comfortable with Ron that he didn't blink to find they were talking into the night, trading stories of this or that minor incident during that last year Neville had been at Hogwarts and explaining to one another what their new lives of training and working entailed. Certainly Neville wouldn't have had the chance to see Ron the evenings after they had worked on the protection spells, without performing an aerial version of a tumble down a flight of stairs the first night.

But whether he liked spending time with Ron, and with Harry, or not, Neville was of the opinion he would much rather owl them to arrange plans than count on them grabbing him out of thin air in the middle of the night.

He had been preparing to owl one or both of them, in fact (and would have, too, even though he had put the task off a number of times when he had found something else to distract him), when he fell asleep over his notes on Fanged Geraniums one sunny afternoon, and woke to find himself at a Chudley Cannons match, sitting in the stands next to Ronald Weasley.

"Now, I know you aren't a season ticket holder," Ron remarked as Neville gave a gasp and patted down the benches to make sure he wasn't going to find himself hurtling through the air or in the midst of any other sort of dangerous motion. "But even if you were using someone else's seats, that still doesn't explain how you just popped up here looking like you had no idea you were going to watch Quidditch with me on my day off from training."

"I didn't," Neville blurted out.

"You didn't decide to use someone else's tickets?" Ron asked. "Didn't plan on turning up at a Cannons match? Or didn't mean to Night Fly, or Sleep Apparate, and before you explain how you weren't sleeping or some such thing, I should point out that you've obviously just been having a nap, as your hair is standing on end in the front and sort of flat on the side."

"Didn't know it was your day off," Neville mumbled as he tried to fix his hair.

Ron stared at him for a moment. "Well. Yeah. Not many people do, I expect. I don't have many of them, and whenever I get one, no one else seems to be around to make plans. Harry spends most of his free days with Ginny, and Hermione's so busy reading for her degree at her Muggle University that she hasn't the time for this sort of thing."

"I have --" Neville cleared his throat. "As it happens I have something of a flexible schedule. So, you know, if you ever wanted to, I don't know --"

"Go to a Cannons match," Ron supplied.

"Right. If you wanted to go watch the Cannons, I could likely, if you wanted, I mean, er." Neville coughed. "Come along."

After a beat, Ron grinned. "Neville, I happen to have a day off from training, and I was wondering if you wanted to take in a Cannons match with me."

"That would be brilliant," Neville said with enthusiasm.

"Right." Ron's lips were still curled up into a smile as he turned his attention back to the action on the pitch.

When the match ended (the Cannons lost in a dismal series of plays that had Ron standing on his seat and shouting out the tactics they should be using), Neville proposed they go get a Butterbeer.

"Though I probably should be more worried about how I keep turning up places where I don't mean to be, instead of thinking about getting a drink," Neville said with a self-conscious laugh when Ron hesitated.

"Oh, that. Well, it's only happened the two times now, yeah?"

Neville nodded.

Ron shrugged. "So far you've shown up in places where I am already. As long as you keep sleep-teleporting to where I can set you to rights, I suppose it isn't a really something to fret over."

"I suppose not," Neville agreed, nodding vigorously when Ron suggested they should go get that Butterbeer after all.



*~*



When Neville got home after spending the day rather unexpectedly with Ron, he found himself humming as he put away his notes and tidied his flat. The whole day at the match and after had been enjoyable, though Neville hadn't until now felt especially compelled to seek out Quidditch matches since House cups were no longer at stake.

It was only when he began getting ready for bed that he was struck with an anxious realization about his recent sleep-inspired jaunts. He wasn't just showing up in places where he didn't intend to be, nor was he only finding himself in spots Ron happened to frequent. No, he thought with growing apprehension, he had specifically discovered himself in situations that would appeal especially to Ron. After all, Neville disliked flying, and hadn't more than a passing interesting Quidditch, but Ron loved to fly, and not only played Quidditch on his own time when he could but was possibly the most devoted fan Neville had ever encountered.

Now that he thought on it properly, it seemed more than a little strange that Neville should all of a sudden become attuned to and, well, bodily drawn to things Ron enjoyed.

"I think it's called sharing interests," Luna noted when Neville Flooed her with frantic questions when he should have been brushing his teeth.

"But I'm not trying to share anyone's interests, least of all Ron's," Neville protested. "I can't just keep on this way -- what if this sort of thing sets in motion when I least expect it, popping up wherever Ron happens to be pursuing his own interests, or whenever I might fall asleep? I can't just close my eyes while I'm working on a business plan for my greenhouses and wind up at some Auror-only celebration at a pub, or lie down on a Sunday only to find myself in the middle of a family meal at the Burrow. Or what if I went to sleep as usual only to end up in Ron's bedroom moments later, especially if he was -- if he was in the middle of --" Neville stopped short as he felt his cheeks redden.

"That last one sounds especially interesting," Luna commented in a dreamy voice. "I think you would enjoy it very much, Neville, even if it wasn't something you knew you wanted beforehand."

Neville opened his mouth to protest but then pressed his lips together. "Luna," he began, in a far calmer tone than he had used in their conversation so far.

"Yes?" She gave him a vague smile.

"You wouldn't have happened to -- I don't know -- done something, to make me follow Ron about unconsciously?"

"Oh, no," she answered. "Not really, at any rate. It was more on the order of un-doing something, you see."

He groaned. "Tell me."

"Well, it's not that I made you do a single thing you didn't want to do, especially because I didn't know what the charm was going to make you do. I just removed your habituation to staying far away from Ron, because I could tell you wanted to be close to him. Only you weren't letting yourself, and you didn't know how to go about it even if you were contemplating letting yourself. So I helped."

"Luna, that was not helping," he fumed. "If I realize on my own that I wanted to spend more time with Ron Weasley, then that's my business. And I would go about it my own way, not just getting pulled to him whenever he's doing something he enjoys and I happen to be sleepy."

"Oh. Oh dear. Well, then I am sorry," she said with feeling. "I didn't mean to interfere too much. I only wanted to see you happy, Neville."

He rubbed at his forehead. It was no use asking about the specific charm; Luna was so talented at tweaking existing ones and even at creating her own. Her methods of devising them were so far beyond his ken that he knew he couldn't begin to understand how she had brought it all about. There was even less point in convincing her that even if he did enjoy spending time with Ron as friends and maybe as something more, that wouldn't matter a bit if Ron didn't want to spend time with him in the same way.

"All right," he said at last. "We'll talk about this later."

"I'll wait for you to owl me when you like," Luna said gently, and then pulled away from the Floo connection.


*~*



Neville didn't sleep at all that night, and dozed only fitfully over the next few days. He felt reluctant to close his eyes for any length of time, even though he was sure Luna would have put a stop to the charm once he confronted her about it.

Even if he was no longer specifically pulled to wherever Ron was at any point, he imagined he might find his dreams filled with not only the experiences he had shared recently with Ron, but some of the hypothetical ones he had offered as random examples to Luna. The feeling that he had been intruding on Ron grew as Neville found it more and more impossible not to think about being around Ron. No matter what he might have wanted for his interactions with Ron, even considering spending more time with him made Neville feel uneasy. After all, he did not wish to invade Ron's family gatherings or interrupt gatherings with his acquaintances from work, especially now that he had an inkling of just why he might be so drawn to Ron.

He did, however, find that he was missing spending time with Ron. When he let himself think about it, he found it odd, since of course he had not been around Ron all that much before stumbling on to Luna's misguided method of helping him. But it had been enough to give Neville some idea of what could be possible, if he and Ron were in each other's lives more often, if he really did end up sharing Ron's interests because there was something more than friendship between them.

The topic was a murky and engrossing one even if he did try to avoid contemplating it overmuch, so it was not a surprise that while thoughts of Ron were distracting him from his pruning work in the garden, he did not realize until too late that Ron had arrived and was standing right behind him.

"Hallo," Neville said after a pause. He shielded his eyes from the bright morning light with his hand, gazing up at the sunlit figure standing before him.

Ron nodded in return.

Neville cleared his throat. "Did you want some tea, or I could maybe --"

"Neville, you didn't just all of a sudden have flying on the brain, did you?"

"Er." Neville pulled off his gardening gloves. "Well."

"Or out of nowhere decide to become a Cannons fan," Ron continued.

"Well, I suppose -- no, not as such," Neville said slowly.

Ron spoke in a rush. "Because those aren't really things I think of when I think of you, but even though you doing them didn't make much sense to me, I liked having you around more often."

Neville dropped his gloves in surprise.

In a fluid move, Ron crouched down to bring himself nearly face to face with Neville before giving him a rueful smile. "Then lately you haven't been around much at all. At first I thought, well, he must be doing things he likes instead. And come to think of it, I'm not quite sure what sort of things you like to do, besides digging around in the dirt. Even if I did, I don't think I can get that Night Flying Sleep Apparating thing to work for me to help me just turn up wherever you pass the time. So I thought I would just, I don't know, tell you that I don't know what you like to do, and ask if you wanted to, er. Show me?"

They regarded each other for a moment, and then both of them laughed.

"It's not only digging in the dirt, you know," Neville remarked.

"That's good, because I think there's only so much of that I can take," Ron confessed.

"I don't think I actually like flying all that much, but just so you know, Quidditch games, I'm happy to go to those."

"Yeah?"

"Or do, you know, whatever you like," Neville finished with a nervous smile.

"Maybe something we both like to do," Ron suggested. He touched Neville's hand briefly.

Though Neville expected himself to blush at that, or stammer out an odd response, he instead found himself smiling as he brushed his fingers over Ron's hand in return. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of a few things."



*~* the end *~*