It felt odd hearing strangers shouting his name and calling him a hero. It sounded foreign to his ears, much like when someone called him by the wrong name mistaking him for someone else. He wasn't a hero; Harry Potter was the real hero. He just did what Harry asked him to do, "Kill the snake." He was simply following orders.

As Neville Longbottom walked out of the Great Hall, wizards and witches he had never met passed by him, slapping him on the shoulder or stopping to shake his hand. He wished they would stop doing this. He didn't much like the attention, or recognition, though he understood their need to reach out to him. He politely returned their smile, shook their hands, and then went about his business.

Even his Gran had surprised him, first by sending that letter to him to tell him she was proud to have him as her grandson for standing up to the Death Eaters. As he walked, he absentmindedly reached in his pocket to make sure the letter was still there. He could feel the parchment crinkle beneath the fabric of his robes. Then she had joined him out in battle dueling Death Eaters with a ferocity he had never seen before in his life. He knew she was a formidable woman, a force to be reckoned with in a vulture-stuffed hat, but watching her duel Death Eater after Death Eater, escaping death by a few inches had unnerved him every time. After all, she was the only family he had left.

When the battle was over and the war was done, his Gran had found him first, engulfing him in a tight hug. As they embraced, he could feel her body shake with sobs. He pulled away and to his shock, his Gran was crying. As long as he could remember, he had never seen her cry.

Neville slowly made his way through the battle worn corridors of Hogwarts. He wasn't sure where his final destination would be; he just needed to get some air. He wasn't sure why he felt so indifferent toward this new admiration he was receiving from people.

Three years ago, hell, six years ago he would have relished in the interest and appreciation from people for completing a task that challenged his bravery. But now that he held their notice, he didn't want it, because in all honesty, it didn't belong to him.

Dumbledore's Army hadn't belong to him either; it was Harry's. Harry may not have blatantly asked Neville to continue the D.A., but when he, Ron and Hermione never showed up at Hogwarts, what else was there to do for those who were left behind? Someone had to take charge and stand up to the Carrows and the Slytherins. Someone had to protect the younger students and survive until Harry, Ron and Hermione came back. Neville had willingly taken on the role of leader, and protector, but in his heart it was always just a temporary job. When Harry, Ron and Hermione had returned, he willingly relinquished the job as leader back to Harry.

Neville found himself at the foot of the stone staircase leading up to the Astronomy Tower. He didn't care that the flight of stairs were steep, or that his arms and legs felt like lead. He just wanted to go where no one would find him, and the Astronomy Tower was the perfect spot to take refuge.

Once Neville reached the top of the tower, the morning sunshine was a welcomed visitor. It was literally the only bright spot in his view, yet he couldn't feel its warmth on his face. He sat down, leaning against the wall and closed his eyes.

A soft breeze ruffled his hair and he could faintly smell the aroma of burnt foliage.

For the first time in hours, it was quiet and he was alone. Once the stillness reached him, he heard the creaking of a door.

Crap.

"Neville," a soft, familiar voice uttered.

Hearing his name, Neville opened his eyes to a pleasant sight, Hannah Abbott. Though she looked a little worse for wear, she was still a lovely sight to see.

"Hey," Neville answered.

"Hey," repeated Hannah with a small smile, sitting down next to him. "I'm glad I found you, Longbottom."

"Yeah, why is that, Abbott?" Neville asked, with a smile.

"Because, you're good company," Hannah replied.

"Thanks, you too."

She slowly reached over and took his hand in hers, resting her head on his shoulder. It wasn't the first time Hannah had held his hand. Many times Neville had landed himself in the Hospital Wing, usually after being on the receiving end of a curse by one of Carrows, Hannah had almost always been there sitting by his cot, waiting for him to wake up. Sometimes when he woke up, Hannah was holding his hand.

Neville had always liked Hannah. Ever since their fifth year when she broke down in Herbology under the strain of revising for their O.W.L.S, he had always hoped to talk to her one day. If only he had had the courage back then to approach her with an offer to help her revise for Herbology.

All that had changed one dreary day in November when Hannah was being chased by some Slytherins on her way from the Library to the Hufflepuff common room. By happenstance, Neville had been graffiting "Dumbledore's Army, still recruiting" on the walls of the third floor corridor when he had heard her panicked cries. As she had turned the corner toward him, he instinctually grabbed her, hiding them both in an enclave behind a suit of armor until the Slytherins had ran past them. After that encounter, Neville no longer struggled to talk to Hannah.

But right now, Neville didn't feel like talking, and Hannah seemed to sense his need for quiet. She hadn't said anything else to him. They sat there in companionable silence. He kept his focus on their entwined fingers, listening to the wind rustle through the trees and enjoying the warmth of Hannah's closeness.

Neville hadn't expected to start anything with Hannah considering the horrible atmosphere they all had to endure at Hogwarts. After he had saved Hannah from the Slytherins, Ginny and Luna had encouraged him to just talk to her to see where things would go. He had tried to convince them both and himself that Hannah was not the slightest bit interested in him. However, he couldn't help but notice each time he had been in the Great Hall, or passing her in the corridor between classes, or in Herbology with her, that whenever he happened to catch Hannah's eye her face would instantly break into a genuine smile before she would shyly look away.

The first time this had happened in the Great Hall, Neville had turned around to look behind him, thinking her beautiful smile had been meant for someone else. However, no one had been standing behind him and when he had returned his gaze to Hannah she had burst into fit of silent giggles. During Herbology when it had come time to pair up with someone, Hannah had found him first. The pairing turned out to be a good thing as Herbology was the only time that they could both interact freely with each other.

They would mostly talk and sometimes held hands under the table in the Library while they worked on their homework. They had agreed to be discreet about their budding relationship as Neville was afraid if the Carrows or the other Slytherins found out about him and Hannah, that they would use her to punish him.

"Would you hold me, Neville?" Hannah softly asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure."

Hannah moved to sit on his lap and rested her head in the crook of his neck. She held onto him tightly and he noticed her body was trembling. Before he could ask her if she was cold, she said something that caught him off guard.

"You're a hero, Neville. You know that, right?" Hannah gently declared, resting a soft hand on his cheek.

"I'm not a hero," he sighed, looking down at her and meeting her gaze. He took her hand in his and held it to his chest. "Everyone keeps calling me one and I'm not. I just did what I was told. I just did what Harry asked me to do." He needed her to understand that he didn't want their recognition, nor did he like it.

"But you are a hero, Neville. You've been my hero since the day you saved me from those Slytherins. I know you didn't ask for the attention, and I know it makes you uncomfortable. But Neville, do you realize what you did tonight? The bravery and defiance you showed in the face of danger. It radiated off of you onto everyone fighting against him."

"It just seems so misplaced," Neville confessed. "Look at me, I'm Neville Longbottom, the kid who broke his wrist on his first flying lesson. I'm the one who got hung up on a candelabra by a pair of Cornish Pixies. I'm the one who let an alleged convicted murderer access into Gryffindor Tower. I'm-"

"You're the one who never gave up on Dumbledore's Army." Hannah interrupted. "You're the one who stood up to the Carrows and protected the younger students. And tonight you're the one who killed a giant snake with a sword you got out of the Sorting Hat. But I think the one thing that will be etched in everyone's mind as long as they live is the fact that you were the one who stood up to V-V-Voldemort. And because of that, you Neville Longbottom are my hero."

Before he could thoroughly digest what she was saying to him, Neville noticed tears were now cascading down her cheeks.

"You…you really scared me tonight," Hannah wept. "When he cast that spell and you were engulfed in flames, I thought, I thought I lost you forever and I never got to tell you how much I love y-"

Neville didn't wait to hear the rest; instead he gave into the impulse and kissed her gently on the lips. Her lips were warm and soft. It surprised him when he felt her mouth open slightly and the tip of her tongue rested at his lips. He opened his mouth in return and the kiss deepened. It was the most electrifying feeling he had ever felt in his life. After several pleasurable minutes they broke apart, affectionately resting their foreheads together.

"I should have done that a long time ago." Neville joked.

"Yes, you should have, but you insisted on being noble, remember?" Hannah giggled through her tears. "I'm glad you finally did."

Hannah reached up and kissed him again.

"Remember, Longbottom you're my hero."

The unease in his stomach vanished as her words and their entire conversation penetrated his heart and warmed his soul. He was her hero and that was all that mattered.