"All right, Neville," said Harry in a steady voice. "You can do this. Focus, aim, release."

His hand was sweating on the handle of his wand. He didn't know what to do – he had never dueled anyone before, much less with a variety of spells at the tip of his tongue and a whole room of students watching him.

"Neville, listen to me." With an effort, he pulled his gaze towards Harry, who laid a hand on Neville's trembling arm. "I know you think you can't do it," said Harry in a low voice, for which Neville was grateful – his insecurities didn't need to be on display any more than they already were. "But you can. You can do it. I've watched you practise these spells for weeks, now. You're ready. You're more than ready. All you have to do is –"

"Focus, aim, release," Neville mumbled, and Harry nodded. "I can do this?"

"You can do this." He released Neville and backed away into the crowd of spectators.

Neville took a shaky breath and turned to face his opponent – tiny Colin Creevey, half his size, twice as brave. He raised his wand, pointing it directly at the other boy.

Colin made the first move.

"Stup –"

"Protego!"

The spell came instinctively, and Colin's red jet of light bounced off the shield that had miraculously materialised in front of Neville. The rebounding beam shot over Colin's head as he ducked out of the way, scrambling to dodge its path. There were a few appreciative whoops, and Neville's lip twitched into a small smile.

But there was no time to get distracted. Colin was aiming to strike again.

"Expelliarmus!"

This time Neville was too slow to conjure a shield, but somehow the jet of light slid straight past him. It was only when he heard the cheers did he realise he had dodged the spell, without consciously trying to.

Bolstered by this thought, he went on the offensive. "Stupefy!"

"Pro –"

Colin was too slow and the jet of light came barreling at him. He only just managed to get out of the way, and Neville could almost smell singed hair.

Now the rest of Dumbledore's Army was cheering, rooting for one of them –

"Nice, Neville!"

"Yeah, Colin, go on!"

"Come on, Longbottom, you've got this!"

They had begun to circle each other, and the crowd seemed oddly hushed behind the buzzing in Neville's ears. Adrenaline had kicked in, slowing the world around him, quieting noise and heightening every sense, making him aware of every breath, every heartbeat.

"Expelliarmus!"

And then it was over. The sound of the crowd came rushing back to him as Colin's wand flew out of his hand, sailing across the Room of Requirement. It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside him, and Neville sagged, exhausted but grinning uncontrollably. People were slapping him on the back, congratulating him, whooping his name into the air. He caught Colin's eye across the room and nodded, and the younger boy acknowledged him, disappointed but not defeated. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that promised to avenge his loss.

"Yes, Neville, yes! I bloody knew you could do it –"

"Did you see the way he dodged that spell? Wicked!"

He found himself enjoying the aftermath, the cheering and chanting of his name. Then there was a small voice in his ear –

"I told you that you could win."

He turned and found Harry grinning at him. "Yeah," he said dazedly, a goofy smile spreading across his face. "I won, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," said Harry with a small laugh. "Bit out of it, are you?"

"Just a bit," he said, blinking owlishly. "Hey," he added suddenly, leaning in closer. "Thanks. For, you know. Teaching me."

Harry smiled and clapped him on the back. "Don't mention it. There's nothing I'd rather do instead." He was smiling proudly.

Neville grinned, and suddenly the image of his parents came to him. He could almost see the proud looks on their faces as he told them he had won his first-ever duel. They wouldn't know what it meant, but they'd be proud, he knew.

And Neville resolved right there and then that he would work harder at the D.A. and use everything he could against the Death Eaters. He would avenge his parents. He would make them prouder than they'd ever been.

But for now, at least, he could enjoy the sound of his name, chanted over and over, like a hero marching to victory.