Neville blushed rather spectacularly at her reaction to his answer. He'd been getting better about it over the years, but sometimes, Neville was still just Neville. And just then, he was being hugged tightly by the girl he'd fancied for years. Of course he was going to blush. He was only human, after all.
And so, to distract her from the fact that he'd gone rather pink, he slipped out from under her, sitting up with his back against the nearest hard surface, which happened to be the sofa. "I don't know if 'brilliant' is the word I'd use," he challenged with a laugh, "but it should be interesting, if nothing else. Didn't you say you wanted to go swing dancing? I don't even know what that is!"
Still, he laughed at the very prospect. With anyone else, it would sound just like a date. But with her, it was because Harry wasn't around, and he knew it. And, for the most part, he was okay with it. To be honest, Neville was used to playing second to Harry, and he didn't mind it, really. After all, it wasn't only Harry the Minister had approached about joining the Academy. He'd come to Neville, and Ron, too. And, given time, he was bound to find an identity outside of the War, and outside of being Harry's friend. So would she, he hoped.
"It will be fun to get out of here for a while, though," he admitted, absently looking down and studying the carpet beneath him. "Considering there's supposed to be a war going on, I don't really feel like we've seen much fighting. Unless it's between the people who live here. I don't feel like there's much of anything going on, really. They could have left us at home for all this."