Author's Note: I am undecided as to whether this will remain alone or will be the beginning of a story. It depends mostly on how much time I have.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters (who belong to JKR), although I must admit to sharing some of Hermione's sentiments.
Unexpected Wise Counsel
"
"
"Oh, sorry, Neville. I didn't mean to disturb you."
"That's okay," Neville replied, shutting his Potions text with a sigh. "I haven't been getting anywhere with this anyway. Now, who are worse than Muggles?'"
"Harry and Ron."
At the mention of Hermione's two closest friends, Neville's eyebrows twitched in surprise, but he waited patiently for Hermione to elaborate.
"Not that I'm condoning the Muggle preoccupation with sports, either, but at least they go through different seasons to alleviate the boredom. In the wizarding world, however, it's Quidditch, spring, summer, fall, and winter; morning, noon, and night. At the mere mention of more interesting pursuits, such as music or reading, or even normal conversation, Harry and Ron's eyes glaze over as their narrow minds wander back to that infernal sport! Worse yet, they ridicule me for not paying homage to their violent god. It shouldn't hurt, but they're supposedly my friends! Rejection of things I value is, in essence, rejection of me.
"It isn't that I hate the sport, either. I enjoy watching a good Quidditch match as much as the next witch. What I hate is their fanaticism. There are so many issues in life that are much more important, and they spend hours fiercely debating the relative merits of broomstick varnish!" Hermione closed her eyes and pressed her ink-stained fingertips into her temples. "It gives me a headache to think of the time they're wasting. Where are their lives going? They could be making a difference in the world, but they're too self-absorbed to notice the opportunities scampering past them."
"I wish I could give you some advice," Neville began tentatively, "but I'm not very eloquent or anything. All I can tell you is to persevere. What you do does make a difference, and someday they might come to see that. I mean, that's all any of us can hope for: to change the world for the better." He stopped abruptly, noting Hermione's stricken expression. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?"
"No," replied Hermione in a hushed voice. "You just said something incredibly profound and beautiful." A glistening in her eyes prompted a disconcerted fumbling in her robes as she desperately rummaged for a tissue. Neville's already embarrassed flush grew deeper as he realized that he could not produce one, either.
Well, what did you expect? To play the hero who tenderly dries her tears before enfolding her in your arms? You've been reading too many romances.
Neville's acerbic mind quickly brought him back to reality. As Hermione's search became frantic, he offered the first solution he encountered.
"Here, use my robes. They need to be washed anyway."
Oh yeah, real gallant
.