Neville shuffled out of the library, contemplating the essay he'd just written. The Colour Changing solution essay was 3 inches short of the 15 inches Professor Snape had set, and Neville knew that he would get the customary 'D' he had come to expect.
He pulled a pumpkin pastie out of his pocket, relieved to be out of view of Madam Pince's piercing stare. But before he could take a bite out of the pastie, a cold, sneering voice rang out from behind him.
"Longbottom, what were you doing in the library? I didn't think you would have enough intellectual ability to even find your way there!"
Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, stepped smoothly infront of Neville, blocking his path. Neville cleared his throat several times, trying to think of something clever to say, but before he could utter a single word, Malfoy spoke again.
"Forgotten where you left your voice, Longbottom? Well, seeing as we're here, I've been looking for someone to practise the Leg-Locker curse on. You don't mind, do you? Only you're a snivelly Squib who isn't worthy or brave enough to be in Gryffindor, let alone Slytherin, and I wouldn't want to practice it on anyone else, in case something went wrong!"
Neville was frozen with fear. Before he could protest, Malfoy said smugly, "Locomotor Mortis!", and Neville's legs snapped together. He toppled to the ground, and with a cruel laugh Malfoy walked off, leaving Neville to struggle into a standing position, and back to the Gryffindor Common Room.