This has been on my computer for a while and, reading through it, I wondered why I hadn't published it before. For those waiting for more Phantom-fiction, IHD is still on hiatus but I'm tentatively beginning another - a spin-off of 1000 Talents. However, enjoy this short while you're waiting!
How Neville Longbottom became a Gryffindor.
Neville Longbottom was never quite sure why the Sorting Hat had put him into Gryffindor. He was never particularly brave, or daring or chivalrous, or any of the other things that the Sorting Hat had sung about in his first year.
Of course, he had been fairly brave that one time in first year when he took on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed after Ron punched Malfoy at the Quidditch match. After he came round, everyone had been really proud but it had quickly been forgotten about. Harry, Ron and Hermione's efforts to get the Philosopher's Stone were much more memorable.
He is about to be brave.
On his first ride to Hogwarts, between looking for Trevor, he had wondered which house he would be in. Gryffindor was his first choice. Both his parents, his brave, wonderful parents, had been Gryffindors but there was no guarantee. Sorting had nothing to do with family. Ravenclaw came next on his list, although he knew that there was no chance he was clever enough to be in the house that boasted the smartest and quickest students. Hufflepuff was almost a certainty. He was loyal and steadfast, true and unafraid of hard work. Living with his Grandmother had seen to that… Slytherin was last. There was no way he'd ever be in Slytherin anyway. He wasn't cunning and had no desire to rise above everyone else. He was happy blending into the background.
He is about to stand out.
Talking to girls had never come easily to Neville. When a young, bushy-haired girl had bounded up to him on the Hogwarts Express, he had hardly known what to say except, "Please help me find my toad." Now that he had grown to know Hermione he had found it easier to converse with her, even if it was just about homework or what a complete git Snape is. Now, he didn't think of Hermione as a girl. She was female but she wasn't a girl in the girly sense. Running around beating giant chess sets and punching Malfoy in the face didn't make her a girl. She was simply a girl. The other girls in the school, the simpering, giggling girls, were alright. But Neville was never particularly fond of girly girls. He liked one girl more than the rest.
He is going to be daring.
He wondered what the boys would say. After all, she is a year younger. No matter though. He was used to being laughed at – stupid Neville who falls over himself and likes plants and makes thing explode and is fat. No-one expects this of him. His Grandmother doesn't, his room-mates don't and the girls…well, they certainly don't.
He is going to be unexpected.
He turns a corner and sees the one person he is hoping to see and yet not to see. She stands with a group of friends, laughing at something someone has said. He wants to make her laugh but not now, not at what he is about to say. The group move off and she stands there, as if waiting for something. He begins to walk towards her, tripping over his own feet and making a crash. She drops the books she is carrying and they fall around her, spines breaking and pages bending.
He is going to be chivalrous.
He crouches down next to her and helps her gather the books. Books aren't the only thing he's gathering – his courage is building up inside him. With a shy smile he hands over a battered copy of The Standard Book of Spells-Grade 3, screws up all his courage and begins to speak.
The bravest thing he's ever done.
"Will you go to the ball with me?"