Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of it's characters, so don't sue me!
Pairing: ???
Plot: Umm…the war is over…Draco helped the Order of the Phoenix find Voldemort's hiding place (cupboard under the stairs - kidding!)…everyone is moving on with their lives…schools out, new teachers in (graduated students)…basically it, I think.
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Chapter One
"So, who can tell me what a snurzle is?" Neville Longbottom lifted his head away from the purple-leaved plants he was tending, and raised expectant eyes to the class of second years, but no one raised their hand.
"Come on, it's right here in front of you!"
"So, none of you can tell me what a snurzle is?"
A few heads were timidly shaken, and Professor Sprout sighed in only half-feigned exasperation.
"A snurzle is what is in front of you. It's main properties are much like that of a mineral, but aside from healing potions, it can also be used in…"
Neville tuned her out, shuffling around slightly as he returned to his pruning, the motion presenting the class with part of his back, and hiding his burning eyes from their sight.
He should be used to it by now, but no matter what anyone said, the fact was that the kids were all scared of him and more than half of them were slightly disgusted as well. Intellectually, he knew it didn't matter what they thought, and he knew it wasn't visible, or even all that bad, but it still felt like he'd been physically struck when the innocent kids, who'd never seen evil in their lives, rejected him. Shunning him before they even met him.
Returning all of his attention to the half-dozen plants in front of him, Neville carefully clipped their leaves the amount required for speediest growth, the familiar action soothing him the way nothing else seemed to lately.
Still, compared to some Neville's problems were nothing. Three years since they'd succeeded. Three years since the evil that had plagued the wizarding world for so long had finally been eradicated, for good this time. And, three years since anyone had seen any sign of Harry Potter.
Neville still dreamed of that night. The last night he'd seen his friend. He went through all of the details in his head, examining everything Harry had said and done, searching. Searching for some clue as to why he'd run, some minor detail to indicate what Harry had been planning to do.
He'd never found anything though. Apart from the usual tenseness that came from war, and the inevitability everyone held felt, either they would succeed or they would fail, there had been nothing.
No slipping in his speech, no alteration in his demeanour from that Neville had become used to. A warrior. That was what Harry had turned into, what the war had created. Neville had known Harry before the danger had crept up, known him since first year, known the carefree boy who was already being prepared for what was to come.
Looking back, Neville could see how all of the adventures Harry had gone through had aided him, training him for what he'd have to do. No one had questioned the fact that it was Harry who ought to fight Voldemort, no one except for a certain Slytherin.
As the leader of the Slytherins, well the ones who weren't on Voldemort's side, Draco Malfoy had quite a bit of authority, and he'd put it to use. Arguing every inch of their preparations, Draco had led and the Slytherins had followed, petitioning again and again that Harry shouldn't be the one.
As Neville recalled, Draco had only halted his protests right at the end, and only then because Dumbledore had taken him aside and said something to him.
The bell rang distantly, and Neville became aware of the subdued scuffling around him. Honestly, they were so scared of him, they were afraid to leave the classroom in an apparent hurry.
Professor Sprout started to put the plants away, and gently urged the kids to leave. Their hesitation vanished, and they fair sprang for the door, several of them colliding in their haste to escape from him. Neville Longbottom. Long time class clown, converted to social pariah almost overnight.
Struggling not to choke on the tears and bitterness that threatened to rise in him, Neville absently thanked the Professor, and followed her suggestion that he take his break now.
Stripping off his gloves, Neville made his way out of the shed, and determinedly made his way to Draco's Arithmancy classroom. He needed someone to talk to, and surprising though it was, Draco was the one Neville found it easiest to be around, with Sprout coming a close second.
Ignoring the way the children dodged out of his way, Neville let his instincts guide him, and found himself heading towards the staff room. Trust Draco to choose today to go to the place farthest away from the sheds. Gritting his teeth, Neville picked up his pace, in the hope to get away from the looks of fear and distaste contorting the faces closest to him.
Hmm…kind of different, maybe? I like this chapter, but we'll see how it comes along.
R&R please? I'll be eternally grateful! J
