Madam Pomfrey eventually released Neville from the hospital wing late in the afternoon on the day after the First Task. Although his left side was still sore, his skin had healed remarkably quickly, a testament to Madam Pomfrey’s considerable skills. Indeed, Hermione informed him later, a Muggle under similar circumstances would have needed weeks to recover from such injuries.
Earlier in the afternoon Gran had come to see him before returning home, and they had shared one of the oddest conversations Neville had ever had with her. She had alternately berated him for his carelessness and fussed over his injuries, as if she couldn’t make her mind up whether she was happy or irritated with him. In the end she settled for directing most of her ire at Dumbledore and the other Tournament organisers, before warning Neville to keep his head down and maintain his effort in training for the next task. Neville had listened patiently and said very little.
Supper in the Great Hall had already finished by the time he left the hospital wing, so Neville gingerly made his way up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, carrying the golden egg under his right arm, intending to slip quietly up to his dormitory to rest and check on Trevor. However he had reckoned without the reception he got when he stepped through the portrait hole into the common room.
The moment he was seen the whole common room burst into applause in front of him. The Marauders unfurled a large banner suspended from the ceiling against the far wall, reading: Neville “ Our Champion. Neville was thoroughly embarrassed as he was surrounded by his classmates each taking their turn to congratulate him. His exploits against the dragon seemed to have earned him much credit among the Gryffindors, even if he himself didn’t think he deserved it.
“I was lucky to get away with it really,” he said to Hermione later in a corner of the common room, after all the fuss around him had died down. “I didn’t follow the plan exactly, and I panicked at the worst times. I should have done better.”
Hermione raised her bushy eyebrows in the way she always did when someone said something she thought ridiculous. “Neville, when are you going to stop believing that you’re not brave? You faced down a dragon and survived, for God’s sake. Do you think half of us could have done that? It’s one thing to be modest, Neville, but that’s just crazy.” Neville didn’t reply. He couldn’t explain it, but he didn’t feel brave, and he supposed he would know if he was.
The Marauders wandered over to join them. “Have you tried opening that egg yet, Neville?” Ron asked. “Come on, we’re all dying to know what’s inside.”
“All right,” replied Neville, curious himself. He picked up the golden egg from where he had put it down next to his chair. There was a small clasp on the top. He twisted the clasp and allowed the egg to fall open.
There was a terrible wailing, screaming sound, an inhuman sound of horrendous pain or suffering. Everyone in the room clasped their hands to their ears at once. “What is that?” exclaimed Ron over the din. “It’s horrible.”
“Stop it!” yelled Harry with feeling. Neville turned to look at him. He was visibly shaking and looked quite affected by the sound. “Close it up!” he cried desperately. Hurriedly, Neville shut the egg and reattached the clasp. The noise stopped.
Harry was still trembling and there was an expression of shock on his face that Neville had never seen before. “Harry, what’s wrong?” asked Ron, seeing his friend’s reaction.
“N-nothing,” stammered Harry, obviously untruthfully. He turned and hurried quickly up towards the dormitory. Ron ran after him.
“What was that?” asked Hermione. “I’ve never seen him like that before.” Neville shook his head, equally mystified.
By the time Harry returned to the common room later in the evening, he was his usual self and it seemed like nothing had happened, but he didn’t talk about it with anyone and if he had said anything to Ron, Ron also kept his friend’s confidence. Neville did however notice Harry eyeing the golden egg suspiciously at times.
* * *
Over the next few days and into the month of December Neville was pleasantly surprised to discover that his performance against the dragon had significantly lessened the anger against him from the other three Hogwarts houses. Partly perhaps because they realised he was no threat to Cedric, the main Hogwarts champion, but principally they just appreciated his effort and the threat he was under. A few, who still believed what Rita Skeeter had written, continued to harass him, and a sullen Draco Malfoy remained his mean self, but otherwise Neville was feeling much better, and the Second Task seemed a long time away.
Skeeter’s article on the First Task had devoted half its coverage to Neville and virtually none of it concerned his performance against the dragon, instead concentrating on his “state of mind” and his injuries. Ron told him Skeeter had tried to get into the hospital wing while Neville was there but had been prevented. Neville intended to do everything he could to avoid her.
The end of term was now fast approaching and everyone was making their plans for the Christmas holidays. Many were staying at Hogwarts, but Neville had assumed he would be returning home to Huddlesby for the holidays, as he had for two of the last three years. So Professor McGonagall’s announcement in Transfiguration a week before the end of term caught him quite by surprise.
At the end of another lesson in which he had completely failed to complete the assigned task (Transfiguration was one subject which remained a closed book to Neville), McGonagall held back the class from going to lunch for a moment. “I have something important to tell you all,” she said, “as your head of House now, rather than your Transfiguration professor.”
“It is a long-standing tradition of the Triwizard Tournament that on Christmas Day the host school organises a Yule Ball to be attended by all three schools. This year will be no exception. All students in the fourth year or above are invited to attend. Younger students may not attend except as a guest of an older boy or girl. It is a formal occasion and dress robes must be worn.
“Mr Longbottom, as a Triwizard champion, it is the tradition that you and your partner will lead the first dance with the other champions.” Neville looked horrified; he hadn’t the faintest idea of how to dance. At the back of the class, Ron sniggered. “Thank you, Mr Weasley,” snapped McGonagall. “As you will be present as representatives of the School and Gryffindor House I strongly urge you all to find dance partners for the occasion and to behave in a responsible and dignified manner. Including you, Mr Weasley. That is all I have to say. I shall not detain you from your lunch any further.”
All the talk about the common room that evening was about the Yule Ball. When Neville entered he overheard the Marauders talking about it. Their discussion mainly seemed to consist of Fred and George teasing Ron that he had as much chance of getting a date for the ball as “Mad-Eye Moody has of becoming an optimist,” in George’s words.
“Well, do you have any idea who you’re going with?” retorted Ron.
“We have a few irons in the fire, so to speak,” replied Fred with a grin. “Don’t you worry about us, Padfoot. It’s you and Prongs who need to be concerned. Although I think I know who Prongs has got his eye on, eh?”
“Mind your own business,” said Harry quickly, with half a grin on his face. He looked up and spotted Neville for the first time. “Hey, Neville. What about you? Got any idea about who you’re taking?” Neville just shrugged. He’d been more concerned with the fact that he would have to dance in front of the whole school than who he would be dancing with.
“If you don’t have anyone else in mind, you’ll take Hermione, surely,” said George. “She is your best friend, and all.”
This made sense to Neville and he was about to say so, but Ron interrupted, eyeing Neville with an odd, slightly worried expression on his face. “Not necessarily. Maybe Neville does have someone else he wants to take. Maybe Hermione doesn’t want to go with Neville. She might want to go with someone else. She might not want to go at all.”
“Don’t be stupid, Padfoot. Of course she’ll want to go,” said Fred. “Everyone’s going.”
“I’m just saying we shouldn’t take anything for granted,” said Ron, looking somewhat embarrassed. Neville wondered why, but it had been a rather odd thing to say. He knew Ron was rather the junior member of the Second Marauders, with Harry more into Fred and George’s schemes and pranks than he was, and that he hated being shown up or embarrassed in front of his older brothers. Neville went on up to his dormitory to start on his homework and thought no more about it.
Having no better idea, he decided to ask Hermione to the ball as soon as possible. However, as was quite common, she had been spending a lot of time outside lessons in the library and he didn’t get a chance until the evening two days later. He was waiting in the common room when eventually Hermione entered, arms weighed down with books. Neville waved to her and she came over. “Have you finished your Charms essay?” she asked. “I’d be happy to look over it for you.”
“Not yet,” Neville answered. In fact he’d hardly started it. “Listen, Hermione, I’ve got something to ask you. You know I’ve got to take someone to this ball thing. Well, I was thinking, if you’re not going with anything else, it would make sense if maybe we went together. What do you say?”
Hermione looked a little uncomfortable. “Er Neville, as flattering as that obviously well thought out and eloquent invitation was,” she said with a grin, “I can’t accept.”
“Oh. Are you going with someone else yet?”
“Well actually, I’ve not been asked yet, but I’m waiting for someone to ask me. I don’t know if he will, but I’ve got to give him a chance. If he doesn’t, then sure I’ll go with you, but could you wait a few days to see if he does?”
Neville was puzzled, but agreed. “So, who it is then?” he asked.
“I’d rather not say, not just yet,” Hermione replied mysteriously. “I’m sorry, Neville, but I’m sure there are any number of girls you could ask. You’re a Triwizard champion. You’re Neville Longbottom, after all.”
“You wouldn’t call that an advantage if you were me,” muttered Neville, but Hermione didn’t hear. Neville didn’t have a clue who else he could ask. He hardly knew any of the other Gryffindor girls in his year and didn’t know any of them in the other houses. Neville had always had a very small group of friends, and beyond that there were very few he spoke to that much at all.
Neville patiently waited for news from Hermione as the last days of term ticked away. Meanwhile the atmosphere around Hogwarts was becoming more and more tense. Neville couldn’t really understand what all the fuss was about, but increasingly stressed students were rushing about everywhere desperately trying to secure dates whilst trying to avoid appearing to be desperate, or else pining that their choice was unavailable. Neville watched the whole spectacle with detached amusement, quietly pleased that the whole thing didn’t get him so bothered.
He learnt that Fred and George were taking a couple of girls from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but as yet Harry and Ron had not secured dates. Harry in particular was acting strangely, hanging around odd parts of the castle on his own and spending less time in Gryffindor Tower. Neville had wondered whether the Marauders would launch some spectacular prank at the Yule Ball, but they seemed far too busy to plan anything.
Two days before the end of term, Neville went to see Hermione in the library, to see whether she had an answer for him yet. As he entered, he passed Viktor Krum on his way out. Krum, who Neville noticed was not carrying any books, gave him a dark stare before striding on past without a word. Neville had got the impression that Krum didn’t like him, but he wasn’t sure why, unless he resented Neville’s place in the tournament. It was difficult to know, because Krum had barely spoken to him in the weeks since he had arrived. He spent a lot of time in the library, a place Neville avoided as much as he could manage.
Entering, Neville found Hermione sitting in her usual place, surrounded by stacks of books. He peered over the top of a pile and whispered, “Hi, Hermione. Can I talk to you?”
Hermione looked up, surprised to see him. “Oh, hi Neville. Actually I needed to see you anyway. Have a seat.” Neville pulled up a chair and sat down. “I’m afraid I can’t go to the ball with you. Someone has asked me.”
“Oh,” whispered Neville disappointedly. “Who was it then?”
Hermione smiled sheepishly. “Viktor Krum,” she said at last.
“Krum?” exclaimed Neville, a little too loud. Madam Pince the librarian gave him a stern look from behind her desk. “Seriously?”
Hermione nodded. “He’s been in here a lot. I helped him out a couple of times and we got to talking and, well, he asked me.”
“But,” Neville was astonished, “isn’t he a bit old? And…”
“QUIET!” yelled Madam Prince. Neville’s voice had risen in volume again.
“Come on, let’s go outside before she throws you out,” said Hermione, and dragged Neville out of the library. Once in the corridor, she faced Neville, hands on hips. “Look,” she stated firmly. “He’s only two years older than me. I’m not a little girl any more, you know. I’m fifteen. I don’t see why it should be a problem to you.”
“It’s not a problem,” said Neville defensively. “You can go with who you like. I’m just surprised. He seems rather sullen to me, and doesn’t look as if he gets on easily with people. I don’t think he likes me.”
“Viktor’s very quiet and likes to keep himself to himself,” replied Hermione, “but he’s really lovely when you get to know him. He has no problem with you at all; we’ve talked about you quite a lot. Because he’s famous, everyone just thinks of him as a big Quidditch star and it’s tough for him to make friends. People just get the wrong impression of him because he doesn’t say much. I think you’d get on great if you got to know each other, you’re quite similar actually.”
“What did Harry and Ron say when you told them? They’re big fans of his.”
“I haven’t told them yet. I’m thinking of keeping it a surprise. So don’t tell anybody, will you?”
Neville smiled. “Okay. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces. Hey, this means we’ll be sitting together at the champions’ table. That’ll be good.”
“It’ll be exciting, won’t it? Thanks for being so understanding, Neville, I was worried how you’d react. I hope you find somebody else to take.”
“I’d forgotten about that! I admit I was hoping I wouldn’t have to ask someone else. So you always expected Krum would ask you, then?”
“Not exactly…” Briefly, Neville caught an expression of disappointment and annoyance on Hermione’s face, but she didn’t elaborate. Neville said goodbye to her, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, wondering what he would now do. He guessed he would just have to ask one of the girls in his year, and hope they said yes. He wondered what would happen if he turned up at the ball without a date. Would it really be such a problem?
As he reached the top of the stairs on the seventh floor, lost in thought and not looking where he was going, he almost ran into Ginny Weasley going in the other direction. “Hi Neville!” she said brightly, and then noticing his worried expression added, “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” muttered Neville, about to go on, and then suddenly rare inspiration struck him. After all, Ginny was a girl, and someone he actually knew. “Hey Ginny, were you planning on staying here over Christmas?” he asked.
“Yes I was,” Ginny replied. “How come?”
“Well, you see, I don’t have a date for this Yule Ball, and I know third-years aren’t allowed to go, but they can if someone older invites them. So maybe, if you like, you and I can go to the ball together.”
Ginny stopped and looked at Neville for a moment, and Neville got the horrible feeling she was about to say no. But suddenly she burst into a smile. “Really? You mean it? Oh Neville, I would love to go to the ball with you.” She flung her arms around Neville and hugged him, a reaction which caught Neville completely by surprise. Ginny almost seemed surprised herself at her reaction, and quickly let go.
“I shall have to owl Mum so I can buy a dress,” she said excitedly, “and I’ll need to get my hair done. So much to do; it’s barely a week away. I must get started. See you later, Neville.” She dashed off happily down the stairs, a broad smile on her face. Neville watched her go, realising how much of a mystery to him Ginny Weasley always had been and still was.
* * *
“Ginny?!” exclaimed Hermione. “You asked Ginny Weasley?”
“I had to take someone, and she’s about the only other girl I know,” explained Neville. It was the evening of the last day of term and Neville had finally got hold of Hermione in the common room to tell her the news.
Hermione looked even more surprised than Neville had been when she told him about Krum. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” she said.
“Why not? What’s wrong with Ginny? Yeah, she’s only a third-year, but that’s not a problem.”
Hermione stared at Neville with a furrowed brow. “Neville, you do know that Ginny used to have a crush on you, don’t you? She may still do, for all I know.”
“What? What are you talking about?” exclaimed Neville. This was entirely news to him.
Hermione shook her head in bewilderment. “Honestly Neville, do you pay any attention to anything that goes on around you? Everyone knew Ginny had a crush on you. Didn’t you notice how odd she was around you in her first year?”
“I thought she just nervous because I was famous.”
“Yeah, but nobody else acted like that around you, did they? She had a crush on you precisely because you were famous. Every wizarding family has talked about you for years, and the Weasleys are no exception. And then you saved her life from the basilisk, which must have helped. I’m astonished you didn’t know. It was obvious to most other people.
“She’s been acting a lot more normally around you this year, so she may have got over it, but I can’t know for sure. It’s not fair to lead her on if you’re not interested. You’re not interested in her, are you?”
“I’ve never really thought about it,” Neville answered truthfully.
“You never really think about anything, do you Neville?” Hermione was exasperated. “Really, you can be quite hopeless sometimes. Other people besides you have lives, you know.”
Neville felt chastened. “Should I tell her I can’t take her to the ball, then?” he asked.
“No! That’s the last thing you should do. That would be even crueller. Do you understand girls at all, Neville?”
“I don’t understand people,” Neville observed sadly. “Girls are just a part of that.” He felt embarrassed and really stupid. The reason for Ginny’s behaviour had never even occurred to him. He got wrapped up in his own problems so much, he didn’t notice half what was happening around him. Even when he did, he found the behaviour of other people just another mystery to him. He wondered what other “obvious” important things he didn’t know about. “So what do I do?” he asked.
“When you’re at the ball, talk to her, listen to her, and try to get to know her for once. It’s hardly advanced Transfiguration, Neville. Just be friendly towards her. Make sure she enjoys the ball. Anything else, you’re on your own. I just hope she’s not expecting you to be someone you’re not.”
Everyone always expects me to be someone I’m not, thought Neville. It’s the story of my life. He hoped he wouldn’t embarrass Ginny. He’d never forgotten how brilliant and brave she’d been in the Chamber a year and a half ago, and she deserved to be treated better than he could usually manage. It would be a challenging evening.
“And then there’s Harry…” Hermione muttered to herself.
“What about Harry?” Neville asked.
Hermione looked up, unaware she had spoken out loud. She shook her head in the same way as she had before. “If you don’t know that either, I don’t think I’ll say anything. I’ve said enough already. We’ll worry about that one when we get to it.”
Neville felt confused and dim again. When it came down to it, did he really know anything that went on at Hogwarts? The world seemed a far more complicated place to him than it had a mere ten minutes before.
Neville Longbottom and the Goblet of Fire by Sonorus
Chapter Notes: In which Neville has to find a date for the Yule Ball, and discovers just how ignorant he is of the people around him.