Written for Rosa Clearwater's Staying Up All Night Challenge.
Review please!
I hope everyone does well with their challenges. Not as good as I would have liked, but I did my best.
Oh, oh, oh. And Rosa, my Username appreciates your acceptance.
xx
All Night Long
Don't shut your eyes.
Don't.
Don't you dare.
A grumble of discontent escaped him and he shifted in his sitting position, his back supported by the wall. A sleepless night loomed ahead of him, and, tantalizing as the unoccupied sleeping bag beside him looked, he assured himself that under no circumstances he was going to permit sleep to creep in. He stumbled uneasily to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. A sense of longing passed over him as he took note of the gentle snores and sleepy murmurs that whispered across the vast room, his eyes searching jealously over the rows and rows of sleeping bags, occupied by his own ill-equipped army. Negotiating his way through the shadowy masses that were the sleeping students, he crossed to the corner that had been designated for the sixth-years.
'Luna?' he murmured into the darkness, kneeling over a particular sleeping bag, blonde hair visible in the darkness as the only distinguishing feature.
No reply.
With an envious groan, he hobbled over to another sleeping bag, again distinguishing the girl only by her vivid hair. 'Ginny, please say you're awake.'
No reply.
'Don't pretend, Ginny. We both know you snore.'
'Piss off,' she hissed at him without moving. 'Shouldn't you be keeping watch? It's your night. Leave me alone.'
'I can't stay awake,' he told her sheepishly.
'Poor baby,' she whispered mockingly, before rolling over in her sleeping bag to face the wall. 'Goodbye, Neville.'
'No, you've got to keep me awake! Talk to me!'
But he was given no response. And a moment later, genuine snores sounded from Ginny's sleeping bag.
Resisting the urge to pinch her, he got to his feet and crossed back to the seventh-year area, returning to his stance by the doorway that lead out of the Room. He looked out over the sea of indistinguishable heads, inspecting the huddle of fellow seventh-years, straining his eyes to define each student in the failing light that came from a few dim candles hovering above the sleeping students in an attempt to preoccupy himself.
But he was missing something. A head of long, blonde hair.
His body stiffened, any trace of fatigue escaping him. Hannah Abbott's sleeping bag was empty, and that was bad. Perhaps she had been sleep walking and wandered off while he had been dozing… He felt sick. If she had gone wandering through the castle in the middle of the night, after having disappeared from classes for over two months like so many other students, and the Carrows found her… it would be undoubtedly his fault. He was the leader of the army; they had trusted him to lead them, to protect them. And yet he had let one of them wander off, into danger's eager hands.
'Lumos,' he muttered into the darkness, stumbling across the room, too anxious to mind where he was stepping. 'Hannah?' he addressed the darkness. 'Hannah, are you here?'
No reply.
He trailed back and forth across the room; the first-year area, the second-year, the third-year, and so on. Nothing. She was not in the area where they ate, nor was she in any of the bathroom cubicles. And so that left one thing; she had left the protection of the Room. He heaved a deep breath, trying with all his might not to lose his calm and cry out. Should he wake Ginny and Luna to help him look? No, Luna would insist on waking the Hufflepuffs and he would then be subject to Ernie MacMillan's rage in concern for Hannah. And Ginny would be almost as bad as Ernie. He could picture it in his head; her fiery hair flying out behind her, her brown eyes piercing him, her freckled cheeks blotted with red. 'You lost one?' she would snap at him. 'You fell asleep? It's your night to keep watch!'
He gave a shudder; he would have to venture into the castle alone.
He hurried down the stone steps that lead out of the Room and, his wand ready for whatever awaited him on the other side, he pushed open the door and stepped out. He was met by a small room; yellow hangings smothered the walls and the room was scattered with fat armchairs and coffee-tables. Circular doors lead off from the room. He stepped out of the doorway and looked back; he had apparently stepped out from behind a portrait, which had swung out on its hinges. Inspecting the room he had entered more closely, he reasoned it would have been a very cozy, pleasant room when it was bustling with students and the fireplace was alight. But, like most of the castle since the Carrows' arrival, the room had a tone of abandonment to it.
'Who's there?'
He stiffened immediately, throwing out his wand arm readily, before it occurred to him that the voice sounded much too nervous to be a Carrow or a Slytherin, and the figure that had jumped out of a nearby armchair looked too familiar.
'Hannah,' he breathed, a welcoming rush of relief washing over him.
'Neville?'
'Hannah, you know we can't go out after curfew. They patrol the corridors. What are you doing here?' He watched Hannah's cheeks redden as she averted her eyes; there was something childlike about her, and because of that he constantly found himself addressing her as if she was a first-year that needed constant supervision; she was viewed by most as something of a menace to herself.
'I'm sorry,' she murmured. 'I just… I couldn't sleep. And… and…'
'It's not safe,' he scolded.
'Oh, the Carrows wouldn't come in here. It's our common room. They don't expect Hufflepuffs need checking up on,' she told him, gritting her teeth with contempt.
Neville shook his head. 'How did you get here?'
'The doorway, of course,' she laughed. 'You know how it opens somewhere different every time? Well, I guess, the Room always knows what we need… and I just needed to get away. And it brought me here.'
Neville nodded. 'Alright, fine. But come on, we need to get back. It's not safe. And it's really late, Hannah, you should sleep.'
She turned her eyes downcast, looking glum. 'Everyone always tries to take care of me,' she muttered scathingly.
'No, no! I'm not, I just-'
'Can't I stay a bit longer?' she asked pleadingly.
He began to protest, but she took no notice, sinking back into her armchair and gazing longingly around the room, her eyes feeding on each yellow hanging. 'I was sitting here when I heard the news about my mother,' she said softly. 'I mean, not really the news, exactly. But I was here – Ernie and me were laughing. And Professor Spout came in, and she doesn't usually come in here. And she had tears in her eyes. And she asked if I could come to her office… And I didn't know it was my mother. But I knew something horrible had happened. Something so absolutely awful.'
The image of Hannah, hugging her legs to herself in the armchair, shamefully wiping a tear from her face, only reinforced the image of a child in Neville's mind, and only intensified his longing to protect her. He approached slowly, too nervous to look her in the eye, and placed a hesitant arm around her.
'I'm sorry,' she murmured. 'I don't know why I'm saying this, Neville. I'm sorry you have to listen to me.' She gave a nervous giggle in attempt to brush off the seriousness of the situation.
'Death Eaters took away my mum,' he told her abruptly. 'Dad, too. Not like yours though, I still see them. They're in St Mungo's now. Cruciatus Curse… Bellatrix Lestrange. They don't remember me now. It's fucked.'
Hannah sniffed. 'I'm sorry, Neville.'
'We're going to make it right again,' he assured her. 'We'll make them pay. We just need Harry.'
'You don't need Harry, Neville.'
Neville didn't answer, weighing her words in his mind, before shaking his head and getting to his feet. He extended his hand to her and eased her to her feet. 'Come on,' he said, 'let's go back now.'
They moved back the open portrait-hole and disappeared into it, hand in hand.
As you can see, I got Neville. I have written him before, but he's still challenging. I decided I'd add in Hannah; canon forever. And sorry to advertise things here, but if you too like Hannah Abbott and other minor characters, then I recently published a collection of one-shots on my other account, Tomiko Lou, called The Irrelevant Ones. I'd really, really, really appreciate some reviews if you would be so kind, anyone?