Chapter Two: A Lonely Return Home
“He was never mine to lose… why regret what cannot be? These are words he’ll never say, not to me. Not to me. Not for me, his heart full of love. He will never feel this way.” “Eponine, Les Miserables
~ ~ ~
For the third time that day, Neville landed clumsily in the fireplace of his home. Ducking his head, he stepped out of the flames and brushed his cloak off. “It’s about time…” his grandmother said from the kitchen. “Dinner is almost ready.” She waved her wand and a magical oven opened itself, pulling out what looked like fresh baked bread. As she put her wand away, Gran walked out of the kitchen and sighed as she saw Neville. “Oh, look at you. You’re a mess.” Neville looked down. He was covered in soot and ash. “Go upstairs and change.”
Neville obeyed, stepping away from the fireplace. Once his grandmother had busied herself with the cooking, he stopped at sat down on a stool, his mind racing. He sighed as he examined the fireplace that he was already so familiar with. Stones lined the wall, with candleholders protruding from it. A stone crow sat atop each candleholder. He stood back up, and ran a finger over the dusty crow; for some reason, he had always believed that they were alive.
“Neville?” Gran walked over to him, polishing a silver goblet. “Have you changed yet? Oh, of course you haven’t.” She sighed and put the goblet down on a table. “Well, what are you waiting for?” She tapped him on the shoulder a few times. “Go on, before you dinner gets cold!”
Neville stood up silently and started heading upstairs. The stairs beneath his feet creaked as he climbed. He reached his room, and pushed the door open. He switched a magical light that his Great Uncle Algie installed for him. Light from no apparent source illuminated up his messy room. Trevor sat on his bed, croaking loudly. “Hi, Trevor,” Neville said weakly. The toad croaked in response. His school trunk lay open, with all of his new robes folded neatly in it. Placing his new books, except for Poisonous Plants of Africa and the Middle East, he sat down on his desk.
With a sigh, he looked down at his lap. He’d tried everything to get Hermione’s attention in the past almost six years. He could count over nine times when he had put a jinx on himself, saying it was Malfoy and asking Hermione for help. She had, of course, taught him the counter spell… which he already knew, unless things went horribly wrong. And although he was never very good at potions, he was much better than Hermione thought he was. In every potions class since his first year, he had done something ridiculous like mix it clockwise instead of counter, and asked Hermione for her help. He always thought “ or wished “ that through helping him, she would realize how good it feels to have somebody need you… But, of course, she hadn’t. She never picked up on any of his hints.
But in his second year, he realized that he was stuck with the reputation of a klutz. He was always forgetful, but he was much smarter than he was given credit for. He realized that by suddenly getting better at magic and potions, Hermione would know he lied to her, and she would never trust him again. At least this way, she wouldn’t completely despise him.
An owl, no bigger than his fist, swooped through the window, cawing loudly. Neville chuckled as he walked over to the owl, saying, “Hey Pig.” The owl hooted proudly and landed on his desk, holding out his miniscule foot with a letter way too big for him. He untied the letter and ran over to his bed, sitting down cheerfully as he began to read the letter. The carefully written scrawl gave away its sender immediately. Ginny’s handwriting filled three pages of parchment.
Dear Neville,
I know I just saw you a few hours ago, but I hardly got to talk to you. So much has happened over the last few months that you absolutely need to hear about.
The letter continued to explain the Weasley family happenings. Neville enjoyed Ginny’s description of Fred and George’s store. He had completely forgotten to check it when he went to Diagon Alley. Two more pages of parchment were filled up with more stories of her summer vacation.
Well, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Meet me at the Platform ten minutes before eleven, okay?
Ginny
Neville smiled and slid the letter into his pocket. He had always been really good friends with Ginny. With six older brothers, she knew what it was like to be ignored and sometimes have to lie to cover her back. She was the only one who he trusted to keep his secret. And even still, he never told her about his parents… Something about the idea of her knowing his past always frightened him.
His mind turned directly to when he asked Ginny to the Yule Ball. He had asked Hermione, but of course she refused. Why would she accept? Doing absolutely anything to avoid the awkwardness of being the only one without a date, he asked his best friend to the ball. Ginny had accepted almost too gladly for comfort.
~ ~ ~
Neville’s quill scratched across parchment as he slaved over his Divination homework… “On a week from Friday… I’ll meet a friend who…” He leaned over and checked his book. “Who before had gone unnoticed…” he scribbled down as he mumbled it aloud. He had always had trouble with his divination homework. Something about making up the future confused him.
The portrait closed loudly, and Ginny stumbled in the common room, looking rather frustrated. “Oh, hi, Nev,” she said, referring to the nickname that Neville had hated most of all. She giggled and sat down opposite him on a large armchair.
“Hey,” he responded, not taking his eyes off the paper. “What have you been up to?” But before Ginny could respond, he gasped loudly. “Oh, wait. I have something to ask you.” He cleared his throat nervously. “Err… w-would you like to go to the Y-Yule Ball with me?” he asked, sitting on his hands.
Ginny’s face lightened up immediately. “Yes!” she said, her light blue eyes glittering with excitement. “Er, I mean… yeah. I-I would!”
Neville grinned also, and laid his quill down on the desk. “Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Mmm I think I’m done with as much Divination as I can handle right now. I think I’ll start on Transfiguration. I’ll be right back, have to grab my book.” Ginny nodded, and Neville walked briskly over to the dorms.
He rummaged through his trunk, and finally found his Transfiguration book. As he wandered down the stairs, he heard familiar voices. He heard Ron exclaim to Harry that Neville had asked Hermione… Blushing a deep shade of red, he took a few steps up the stairs to eavesdrop. Their laughter tore him to pieces. His face turned stark white, and then deep red again in a matter of seconds when Ginny began to defend him. He had trusted Ron when he told him… And he went and told Harry… and then laughed about it…
“That prat…” Neville hissed, clenching his fists with anger. He listened to the rest of their conversation sourly. Until… Hermione told them that she was going with somebody else… “Oh who?” Neville whispered to himself.
A few more minutes of conversation, and then Ginny said something that made his heart stop. She had said that she only said yes because she wouldn’t be able to go otherwise…? Neville couldn’t believe it, he knew that Ginny was probably helping him out in a bind, but he didn’t think that she was using him…
Tears welled up in his eyes, and he slammed his book down on the ground, sprinting back up to his dorm.
~ ~ ~
“NEVILLE!” Gran appeared in the doorway, the vulture on her hat quivering dangerously. “Neville, what is taking you so long? Your dinner is getting cold!”
Neville blushed and stood up. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I-I got an owl and-”
“And you didn’t even wash up!” Neville let his shoulders droop, and laced his fingers behind his back. “Well, we don’t have time for that now, just come down and finish your soup before it gets cold.”
Dinner was silent, as usual. Gran had never liked to talk much while she ate. Sipping his soup quietly, Neville stared out the window, his nerves building for the following day. Finally, they finished the vegetable soup that Gran had prepared and she said, “Neville, you have an early start tomorrow. I suggest you head to bed.”
As she shooed him out of the kitchen, he noticed a shadow lurking outside the window and stopped. In an instant, the shadow disappeared and he shook his head. It was just a stupid cat or something… nothing to worry about.
He reached his room, and quickly changed into his pajamas. Sliding into his bed, he reread the letter that Ginny had sent him. His heart skipped a beat with excitement. He was going to Hogwarts tomorrow…
~ ~ ~
The sun rising woke him up that day. Stirring in his sleep, Neville murmured something that sounded like, “Mmm just give me five more minutes…” Suddenly, he shot up to sitting up straight. School started today! Hopping out of his bed, he ran to his dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a pair of muggle jeans, and a dark green sweater. Changing quickly, he shut the drawer and searched frantically for Trevor.
The toad was lurking under his toilet, looking as though he just had a run in with a particularly nasty cat. “C’mon, Trevor,” Neville said, picking his toad up. He turned down the light switch and ran down the stairs, just managing not to fall by grabbing the banister. “Gran!” he shouted, putting Trevor on the table. Gran appeared from her room on the first floor in hot pink nightgown. She sighed as she saw Neville already changed and returned to her room immediately. They had done this every year. Gran always seemed to forget that she had to change into her muggle clothes, and he would have to remind her.
After about seven minutes, she walked back out of her room in a long red skirt, clogs, and a neon orange blouse. Neville had to stuff a fist in his mouth to stop his laughter. Gran had never really been the best at fitting in with muggles. “Here, Gran.” He held out a plain black coat. “It-it’s cold out,” he said, handing it to her. She didn’t have to know how ridiculous she looked.
After a quick breakfast of toast and orange juice, they walked about a mile to the muggle underground. Neville’s trunk seemed to grab some attention, but he just kept his mouth shut. Muggles had the ability to cover up questions with their own invented logical answers. The train slowed to a stop, and the muggle driving said, “Kings Cross.”
As Gran pushed the crowd aside, Neville dragged his trunk behind them, murmuring hurried apologies. He would give anything to be able to perform a simple levitating charm. After passing a good amount of curious muggles, they finally arrived at the barrier between platform nine and platform ten. He bid his goodbyes to Gran, and gave her a quick hug before casually slipping between the barriers.
“Oi! Neville!” Ron came jogging up to him.
“Where’s Hermione?” Neville suddenly asked, a moment later realizing how strange he must have sounded.
“Er, she’s on the train with Harry,” Ron answered, acting as though that wasn’t a very strange thing to say so suddenly. “C’mon, the train’s going to leave any minute.” He waved frantically as he hopped onto the scarlet train. Neville followed, grabbing onto a banister for balance. After passing by many nervous first years, they arrived at their compartment.
Harry and Hermione stood up suddenly when Ron and Neville entered. “Oh, er, here let me help you with that,” Harry said, gesturing to Neville’s trunk. Between them, Neville and Harry managed to lift it high enough for Ron to tip it onto the over head rack, while Hermione cooed the over excited Crookshanks.
The train started moving, and Neville leaned back in his seat. “Oh, Hermione,” Ron said. “We have to head to the prefects’ compartment.” Hermione nodded and stood up. As she and Ron bustled out of the small compartment, Harry just sighed and cleared his throat.
“I-I think I’m going to look for the food cart,” he said. Neville didn’t want to point out that it was only eleven, and not a good time for candy, so instead he just shrugged.
It was only about ten minutes after Harry left, when another red head appeared in the doorway to the compartment. “You didn’t meet me on the platform,” Ginny said, with a sideways smile.
“Sorry,” Neville said with a shrug.
“Did you get my letter last night?” Neville reached into his pocket and showed her the folded up pieces of parchment. “You’re still carrying that around with you?” Ginny asked, raising her eyebrows.
Neville nodded and laughed. “Yeah, my favorite part was about the joke shop.”
Their casual conversation continued for a few hours, until Ginny finally brought up the topic he was trying to avoid. “So, did you see the warning about Lestrange in the Prophet, yesterday?” she asked, too casually.
Neville cleared his throat. “Er… yeah, I did… But I don’t think- I mean, I doubt that she “ er…”
“We’re back!” Hermione announced, appearing in the doorway. “It was a quick meeting.” She sat down next to Ginny and crossed her legs. “Hey!” She pulled a small golden locket out of her pocket. “Look at the new locket my parents got for an early birthday present. I’m amazed they had the nerve to buy something magical!”
“W-what does it do?” Neville asked, leaning in to examine it closer.
“It helps protect everybody I care about,” Hermione answered brightly. “Of course, it can’t save anyone from everything, but I’m pretty sure it can give them an extra boost of strength. And it also shows the person I’m thinking about right now.”
“I bet it wouldn’t protect me…” Neville whispered.
But nobody heard, Ginny was reaching over to see the locket and opened it. Harry’s face smiled back at her, and she laughed, giving it back to Hermione. “I see your thinking of Harry… still.”
Hermione blushed and laughed also, pulling the gold chain around her head. “Aww, ‘Mione, that’s sweet.” Harry appeared in the doorway, with a sly grin.
“Shut up, Harry,” Hermione said playfully.
And the train ride continued like that… for five hours. Neville was extremely relieved when he had an excuse to leave for seven minutes because he had to change into his robes. By the time the train finally slowed, Neville, Ginny and Ron all looked as if they were stuck in double Divination. “It’s over!” Ron shouted, jumping up. “Er, I mean…” He bit his lip as he turned to Hermione, who was staring at him disapprovingly. “W-we’re here… I-I’m starving. The sorting better be fast.” Hermione seemed to think that was an acceptable answer, and stood up also.
With Trevor clutched in his right hand, Neville began to leave the compartment. Hermione was only a few steps away from him, and he jogged them to catch up. “Hey, would you like to sit in a carriage with me?”
“What?” Hermione asked, turning to him.
His question was masked by all of the commotion, and of course, the usual call of, “FIRS’ YEARS! THIS WAY! FIRS’ YEARS!” coming from the bank of the lake.
“Neville, what did you say?” Hermione shouted over Hagrid’s booming voice.
“I said,” he began, shouting full volume. “Would you like to sit in a carriage with-”
“SORRY!” A crowd of bustling seventh years, pushed her out of the way, and she was lost in the mass of people.
Neville swore quietly and began to make his way to one of the carriages. Ginny appeared behind him, and said, “There’s one right there.” Neville would have jumped a foot in the air, if that hadn’t meant he would lose his tiny spot in the crowd when he landed. He turned to the carriage that Ginny was talking to and climbed in before anybody else could get in. Ginny followed, and they settled in their seats.
He just sat in silence and stared out the window at a group of nine first years struggling to get in one boat. It was only a matter of minutes before Hagrid came in and split them up. Biting the inside of his mouth thoughtfully, he turned his attention to the Thestrals who had just started to pull the carriages towards the castle. He had seen them since his first year, but had never said anything about it until the previous term. He always thought there was something wrong with him; little did he know it was a fantastic creature that only a handful of people could see.
When he was eleven, his nightmares were full of these strange creatures. Their haunting presence never leaving his once peaceful sleep alone. He was extremely relieved when Hagrid explained that they were nothing dangerous. And yet, he still had regular nightmares of their pupil-less eyes. Their fur growing straight out of their skeletons swayed in the wind, which was picking up. Wings with the same consistency as dragon hide were folded back, to keep them out of the way. Hagrid’s training was evident. Neville had never run into a thestral in the wild, but he was sure that the only reason that he was able to successfully ride them was because of Hagrid’s work.
Hogwarts castle loomed ahead, casting a shadow over the approaching students. When they all halted to a stop, it once again became extremely crowded with students. Neville and Ginny pushed their way through a particularly loud group of second years, and into to Entrance Hall.
“Well, if it isn’t Longbottom!” Draco Malfoy emerged from the crowd and sneered at Neville. He turned to Ginny and raised his pale eyebrows. “Do my eyes deceive me?” he asked sarcastically. “Mini Weaslekins? With Longbottom? I can’t believe it, Longbottom’s got a girlfriend!” He turned to Crabbe and Goyle who were chuckling stupidly behind him. “I must say, you have some pretty bad taste, Longbottom.”
“Shut up, Ferret Face!” Ginny shouted, turning a deeper shade of red than the common room.
Malfoy sniggered coldly. “Ooh, touchy touchy... I’ll tell you-”
“What’ll you tell him, Gel Head?” Peeves came bobbing above their heads. He held out a rather large dung bomb over Malfoy’s head. “BOMBS AWAY!” he squealed, dropping the dung bomb. It landed perfectly in the center of his head and set off immediately.
“PEEVES!” Professor McGonagall came bursting through a crowd of disgusted third years. “Peeves, if I told you once I’ve told you a million times!” She pulled off her square framed glasses, polished them on her cloak, and put them back on. “You are not allowed to terrorize the students on the first day!”
“Aww is Micky-Gone-Gaul angry at poor Peeves?” His face fell, sarcastically of course, and crossed his arms.
“Yes, Micky-Gone-Gaul IS!” McGonagall put her hands on her hips and stared sternly up at Peeves. “Now get in the castle before I get the Bloody Barron!”
Peeves blew an extremely large raspberry, accompanied by a very rude hand gesture, and flew cackling to the castle.
“Right.” McGonagall said, putting her hat over her painfully tight bun. “Well, what are all of you waiting for?” she snapped at the gazing students. “You’re blocking the path.”
There was a collective groan and all of the students pushed their way passed Neville, Ginny, and Malfoy who were still glaring at each other. Angrily, Neville stormed away and into the Entrance Hall. “Neville!” Ginny caught up, her hair suddenly messy, as though she had to crawl under some people’s legs to get there.
“What?” he asked, spinning around so fast that his hair blew in his created wind.
“Y-you shouldn’t get so worked up… It’s Malfoy, you know how he is…” Neville turned around and continued walking.
He spotted Hermione sitting next to Harry with an empty spot next to her. He jogged a few feet to sit down, but before he could make it, Ron sat there instead. Defeated, Neville sighed and sat down a few seats away, soon accompanied by Ginny. She whispered something he couldn’t understand, so he just shrugged and turned to the masses of first years now filing in.
The sorting passed extraordinarily slowly that term. Dumbledore was the only one who showed no flicker of boredom in his crystal blue eyes. For every new student sorted, he applauded just as enthusiastically. Finally, when “Zelikowsky, Kaitlyn!” got sorted into Ravenclaw, Dumbledore stood up to make his usual start of term announcements.
“Welcome, one and all, to a new term at Hogwarts!” He smiled and continued. “This term, I am proud to announce, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Tiberius Proditirus.” A polite clap followed, as a few students exchanged glances. Neville turned, hoping that he would be able to catch one with Hermione, but she was staring intently at Dumbledore. As he turned, he saw Harry’s eyes narrow a considerable amount, until his eyes appeared closed.
Tilting his head slightly to the side, Neville shook it off and turned back to Dumbledore. “I would like to remind everyone that the forest at the edge of the grounds is strictly forbidden. Any student caught there will suffer detentions, loss of house points, and possible suspension.”
As Dumbledore continued, Neville glanced back at the new Professor. His eyes were such a frightening shade of grey that they seemed almost made them seem colorless. They darted back and forth so quickly, however, that it was almost impossible to tell. He had an unnaturally thin frame, and mousey, dirty blonde hair the color of dust. Something about this man sparked a distant memory in Neville’s mind, but he couldn’t decide what it was.
“And Filch would like me to remind you,” Dumbledore brought him back to reality. “That any student caught using skiving snack boxes, headless hats, nose biting tea cups or any inventions of the Weasley twins will have it confiscated immediately.”
Neville laughed along with everybody, and ran his finger around the empty golden plate. He just realized how hungry he was. His stomach rumbled loudly, and Ginny turned to him, poking him playfully on the shoulder with a quick giggle.
“Let the feast begin!” Dumbledore’s words echoed through the hall as the feast magically appeared on the plates.
As he piled brisket onto his plate, he thought again of his parents. He knew that when they were here, they got sorted into Gryffindor. He met the eyes of a new Gryffindor, and was surprised at how long she was able to stare back at him, before blushing and turning away.
“You know,” he heard Hermione say. “I really think that we could cut the amount of food that the house elves made, it would still be-”
“Hermione,” Ron interrupted. “Shut up. Please.”
Hermione ‘hmphed’ very loudly, and crossed her arms. “I was just going to say that maybe we-”
“Hermione!” Harry put his fork down and turned to her. “We’ve had enough of it.”
Ginny giggled. Apparently, she had been listening too. “She’ll never stop with that,” she said, turning back to face Neville.
“Yeah…” Neville said distantly. “What? I mean, no, no she won’t…”
His distance from Ginny’s attempted conversations continued for the entire dinner, until Dumbledore stood up again and told them that they had a long day the next day, and that they should all head to bed. Benches scraped on the hard stone as everybody stood up to go to their common room.
~ ~ ~
His bed hadn’t changed at all since the previous term. It was still positioned in between Ron’s and Dean’s and still as scarlet as ever. Neville flopped onto his bed, taking in the scents of home. “Oi, Neville!” Harry walked in the doorway, grinning. “Don’t tell me you’re going to bed already. We just got here!” He walked over to his four poster bed and sat down on it.
Neville stirred and sat up. “I think I ate too much,” he said, rubbing his stomach.
“I bet!” Seamus followed Harry, laughing. “I saw you at the feast. You weren’t even talking, you just kept eating!”
Neville blushed until he was camouflaged in his sheets. “Yeah, well I’m tired,” he said softly. “I-I think I’m going to go to bed early.” He sat up, and flung the top off of his trunk. Rummaging through the mess, he pulled out a pair of plain blue pajamas, and walked over to the bathroom.
He sighed as he looked at his reflection in the ancient mirror hanging above the sink. Once he was fully changed, he turned on the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. His dark hair fell down passed his eyes, and he dropped his school robes on the marble ground. With another exaggerated sigh, he reached down and picked it up.
When he reentered the dorm, it was completely empty. Surely all of the other boys in his year had gone down to celebrate. As though on cue, a loud cheer from downstairs assured his prediction. “’Least I don’t have them bothering me…” Neville murmured to himself, trying not to feel offended that everybody just left.
He pulled down the crimson blankets to his bed and slid in between the sheets. Wind howled bitterly outside the tower, and owls swooped by, their speed accelerated from the wind. A loud hoot from the window made him twitch, half asleep. He stirred, as he heard laughter and footsteps headed towards the dorm. Quickly, he began pretending to snore, as not to be bothered.
“Ah, looks like Neville’s already fallen asleep!” Ron said with an overstated laugh.
“Nah, he never stays up long enough for any of the fun, anyway,” Dean said, continuing Ron’s laugh.
Neville felt his face grow hot with anger. Just because he liked to be alone, didn’t mean that they had the right to make fun of him for it. I’ll tell them off later… he thought anxiously. One of these days…