Disclaimer: The only Harry Potter things I own are some books, a little Snape action figure and a glitter mixing kit (which I only bought because it said it was a Potion Kit, which it's not!) so I hold none of the rights and I am entitled to none of the money. In fact I am making no money at all from this or anything right now 'cause I'm a poor stupid student who quit her job! So there!
Warning: I'm not really sure how this is going to turn out as far as the rating goes. But it may eventually become slash. However, right now it is not.
A/N: This is my first fic ever so here goes. Also, if you read this and you think it's okay please review and tell me so, in fact if you read it and you think my writing style sucks, my grammar sucks, my plot was boring and sucked then please review and tell me so (but please specify what sucked and why). If this fic bores you try again later after I've posted more. Trust me it will get much more interesting. :-)
A/N2: /Denotes thought/
Rating: PG
The Other Shoe
"Where's Neville?" Harry asked nonchalantly as he sat next to Ron and across from Hermione and immediately began filling his plate with dinner.
"In the same place he's been during every dinner for the past week, I suppose.", Hermione intoned. Harry stopped piling food on his plate as he realized rather ashamedly that this was the first night he'd noticed the quiet but clumsy boys absence from his usual spot next to Hermione.
"Er, and where is that?"
"In the library."
"Mmm, thaz righ", Ron said, quickly swallowing his food at Hermione's meaningful glare. "Ever since that motivational speaker came and talked about 'fulfilling your goals, realizing your potential, and conquering your fears' he's been spending nearly all his free time in the library or surrounded by books." Ron took another bite of food. " Or playing with Trevor III, of course. He's usually already eaten and out of here by the time your in from afternoon Quidditch practice. Which reminds me, how was practice?"
"Oh, great, we're really doing well. We'll have no problem with Ravenclaw next week."
"Well," Hermione chimed, turning to Ron, "I for one am quite pleased to see that you paid attention to Mr. Frakes' message Ron. I think it's great that Headmaster Dumbledore invited him to speak with us. I hope it continues as a tradition here at Hogwarts."
"Oh boy, another tradition." Ron sarcastically droned. Harry sat back listening to his two best friends bickering and began to stuff his mouth with savory goodies, all thoughts of Neville out of mind.
* * * * * *
Meanwhile, in a deserted but well lit corner of the library, amongst an overstuffed armchair and stacks of dust-filled books towering up off an oak table and a big soft rug, arose a quiet sneeze. Then the not so quiet noise of a rather large stack of books toppling onto the rather small figure curled up in the chair.
"Oops." Neville pushed the books from his chest and arms then stacked them with the ones on his lap and placed them in a new pile on the table in front of him. With a slight groan he pushed himself out of his chair and began to stretch his back and legs while trying to rub the kink from between his shoulderblades. Five months past Neville had reached his sixteenth birthday and since had shed the majority of any 'baby fat' he had once had, though it seemed he would always retain a look of soft boyishness. A large yawn racked Neville's body and when it had released him he found himself starring at a rather irritated looking Madam Pince.
"I'm closing up for the evening, Longbottom. Grab what you want to take with you and I'll check it out for you at the counter." Neville quickly picked up three books that he had sat underneath the chair and stood back while Madam Pince magicked the rest into their proper spots then followed her to the front desk.
After checking out the two Potions books and 'How to Overcome Your Worst Fears', Neville slipped out of the library and headed toward the stairs that would bring him to the Fat Lady and the Gryffindor common room.
It was the third to the last step that always did it and you'd think he would have known it by now. Of course having his shoe laces untied didn't help Neville in the matter. Neville Longbottom had fallen down many staircases in his life but this was the only one that he repeatedly fell up. He tripped, stumbling forward, his knees slamming into the marble landing and his books flying out before him. After a moment on his hands and knees catching his breath he reached forward to pick his books up but instead came into contact with expensive Italian leather.
"Well, well, if it isn't clumsy little Fatbottom." Neville tried to look up into the blonde snobbish boy's face but found his eyes glued to the designer shoes.
"What? Have an ickle fall on your fat arse again?" Neville realized that Malfoy was alone and this might be his only chance to stand up to the boy. He grabbed the nearest book and lifted it as if to swing but was cut short in his actions by a mocking chuckle which made his eyes sting and his lip want to tremble. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and didn't open them till he heard the boys footsteps fade, his distress so much that he never wondered what Draco was doing in the Gryffindor tower. Neville opened his eyes and glanced down at the book in his hands. 'How to Overcome Your Worst Fears' by Stan Dingtall.
"Right, what a joke", Neville laughed derisively as he, overwhelmed with self loathing, tossed the book down the staircase. He sat there sulking for a moment then scampered after the book, frightened by the notion of what Madam Pince would do to him if she found out how he'd been treating her beloved books. Unfortunately it was not Neville's night and the book had fallen into the shadows under the stair well near a very dark hallway. He stood just before the shadowy area, his hand gripping the side of the banister, gathering his courage.
"Neville your such a stupid baby. There is nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light", he told himself, completely ignoring the fact that this often was not the case at Hogwarts. He let his hand slide down to his side where he wiped his palms on his robes. Kneeling forward carefully, he crept across the floor on hands and knees patting about for the book. When his fingertips stumbled across the object of his search he latched onto the book with all his might and thundered up the stairs as fast as he could, once more tripping up the third step down from the landing which was fine with him as it allowed him a chance to gather up the other two texts and scurry to the Fat Lady who let him through after only three tries.
Snape stepped out of the shadows lining the hall. He had just come from a meeting with Minerva about purchasing new Quidditch balls when he heard what sounded like someone falling down the stairs. Curiosity had kept him from intervening when he saw young Malfoy near Gryffindor quarters exchanging words with that Longbottom boy. His brow his creased with thought as he walked on heading toward the dungeons. /Why/, he wondered /was Mr. Malfoy on the stairs leading to Gryffindor tower? And why did Longbottom just sit there taking it while Draco practically spit in his face? Most curious indeed./
Warning: I'm not really sure how this is going to turn out as far as the rating goes. But it may eventually become slash. However, right now it is not.
A/N: This is my first fic ever so here goes. Also, if you read this and you think it's okay please review and tell me so, in fact if you read it and you think my writing style sucks, my grammar sucks, my plot was boring and sucked then please review and tell me so (but please specify what sucked and why). If this fic bores you try again later after I've posted more. Trust me it will get much more interesting. :-)
A/N2: /Denotes thought/
Rating: PG
The Other Shoe
"Where's Neville?" Harry asked nonchalantly as he sat next to Ron and across from Hermione and immediately began filling his plate with dinner.
"In the same place he's been during every dinner for the past week, I suppose.", Hermione intoned. Harry stopped piling food on his plate as he realized rather ashamedly that this was the first night he'd noticed the quiet but clumsy boys absence from his usual spot next to Hermione.
"Er, and where is that?"
"In the library."
"Mmm, thaz righ", Ron said, quickly swallowing his food at Hermione's meaningful glare. "Ever since that motivational speaker came and talked about 'fulfilling your goals, realizing your potential, and conquering your fears' he's been spending nearly all his free time in the library or surrounded by books." Ron took another bite of food. " Or playing with Trevor III, of course. He's usually already eaten and out of here by the time your in from afternoon Quidditch practice. Which reminds me, how was practice?"
"Oh, great, we're really doing well. We'll have no problem with Ravenclaw next week."
"Well," Hermione chimed, turning to Ron, "I for one am quite pleased to see that you paid attention to Mr. Frakes' message Ron. I think it's great that Headmaster Dumbledore invited him to speak with us. I hope it continues as a tradition here at Hogwarts."
"Oh boy, another tradition." Ron sarcastically droned. Harry sat back listening to his two best friends bickering and began to stuff his mouth with savory goodies, all thoughts of Neville out of mind.
* * * * * *
Meanwhile, in a deserted but well lit corner of the library, amongst an overstuffed armchair and stacks of dust-filled books towering up off an oak table and a big soft rug, arose a quiet sneeze. Then the not so quiet noise of a rather large stack of books toppling onto the rather small figure curled up in the chair.
"Oops." Neville pushed the books from his chest and arms then stacked them with the ones on his lap and placed them in a new pile on the table in front of him. With a slight groan he pushed himself out of his chair and began to stretch his back and legs while trying to rub the kink from between his shoulderblades. Five months past Neville had reached his sixteenth birthday and since had shed the majority of any 'baby fat' he had once had, though it seemed he would always retain a look of soft boyishness. A large yawn racked Neville's body and when it had released him he found himself starring at a rather irritated looking Madam Pince.
"I'm closing up for the evening, Longbottom. Grab what you want to take with you and I'll check it out for you at the counter." Neville quickly picked up three books that he had sat underneath the chair and stood back while Madam Pince magicked the rest into their proper spots then followed her to the front desk.
After checking out the two Potions books and 'How to Overcome Your Worst Fears', Neville slipped out of the library and headed toward the stairs that would bring him to the Fat Lady and the Gryffindor common room.
It was the third to the last step that always did it and you'd think he would have known it by now. Of course having his shoe laces untied didn't help Neville in the matter. Neville Longbottom had fallen down many staircases in his life but this was the only one that he repeatedly fell up. He tripped, stumbling forward, his knees slamming into the marble landing and his books flying out before him. After a moment on his hands and knees catching his breath he reached forward to pick his books up but instead came into contact with expensive Italian leather.
"Well, well, if it isn't clumsy little Fatbottom." Neville tried to look up into the blonde snobbish boy's face but found his eyes glued to the designer shoes.
"What? Have an ickle fall on your fat arse again?" Neville realized that Malfoy was alone and this might be his only chance to stand up to the boy. He grabbed the nearest book and lifted it as if to swing but was cut short in his actions by a mocking chuckle which made his eyes sting and his lip want to tremble. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and didn't open them till he heard the boys footsteps fade, his distress so much that he never wondered what Draco was doing in the Gryffindor tower. Neville opened his eyes and glanced down at the book in his hands. 'How to Overcome Your Worst Fears' by Stan Dingtall.
"Right, what a joke", Neville laughed derisively as he, overwhelmed with self loathing, tossed the book down the staircase. He sat there sulking for a moment then scampered after the book, frightened by the notion of what Madam Pince would do to him if she found out how he'd been treating her beloved books. Unfortunately it was not Neville's night and the book had fallen into the shadows under the stair well near a very dark hallway. He stood just before the shadowy area, his hand gripping the side of the banister, gathering his courage.
"Neville your such a stupid baby. There is nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light", he told himself, completely ignoring the fact that this often was not the case at Hogwarts. He let his hand slide down to his side where he wiped his palms on his robes. Kneeling forward carefully, he crept across the floor on hands and knees patting about for the book. When his fingertips stumbled across the object of his search he latched onto the book with all his might and thundered up the stairs as fast as he could, once more tripping up the third step down from the landing which was fine with him as it allowed him a chance to gather up the other two texts and scurry to the Fat Lady who let him through after only three tries.
Snape stepped out of the shadows lining the hall. He had just come from a meeting with Minerva about purchasing new Quidditch balls when he heard what sounded like someone falling down the stairs. Curiosity had kept him from intervening when he saw young Malfoy near Gryffindor quarters exchanging words with that Longbottom boy. His brow his creased with thought as he walked on heading toward the dungeons. /Why/, he wondered /was Mr. Malfoy on the stairs leading to Gryffindor tower? And why did Longbottom just sit there taking it while Draco practically spit in his face? Most curious indeed./