CHAPTER 1- YOU CAN'T RUNAWAY FROM WHAT YOU ARE

So I decided to be creative and spill out my creative juices. Should I continue?

The prevailing of a good man is not because he is strong or weak but to the faith and justice that resides and deeply embodied in him. No such men can custom to this other than Neville Longbottom.

The night had gotten even hotter and running for peace felt like swimming as fast as he could through a boiling soup. At the corner of her block Neville got trapped at a DON'T WALK sign. He jittered up and down impatiently on the balls of his feet while Muggle traffic whizzed by in a blur of headlights. He tried to call Harry on his cell phone for the millionth time that hour, but he didn't answer. The phone didn't look like any Muggle phone Neville had ever seen before. The Hexarchy's buttons didn't have numbers on them, just more bizarre symbols, and there was no screen. Come to think of it, the phone Harry and he had was like a kiddy walky talky.

Jogging up the street toward his rented apartment, he saw that the lights on the second-floor windows were lit, the usual sign that his friends were home. Alright Neville told himself. Everything's fine. But his stomach tightened the moment he stepped into the entryway. The overhead light had burned out, and the foyer was in darkness. Then shadows seemed full of secret movements. Shivering, he went upstairs, hoping for the betterment of his safety, he held his wand out.

"Surprise!" said multiple joyous voices.

Neville whirled. "What-"

He broke off. His eyes adjusting to colourful decorations on the wall which stated 'Happy 21st Birthday Neville' and the appearance of his old school mate.

"I told you Harry," Neville said, "I do not want a party,"

"I don't think-"Harry tried to explain.

"You scared me for the past hour; I had to run away from the coffee shop, away from Malcolm. I thought that some demons were threatening you," Neville wiped the sweat off his forehead, looking intently in the all too familiar green eyes.

"Demons? Dude I'm a wizard, I can zap them off if I wanted to. Besides, that little incident with Mr Parker was uncalled for," Harry laughed.

"Zapping them off won't ward them off; do you ever watch TV or better still read? Oh and don't you dare mention the deceased Parker! He nearly-"shrieked Neville.

"You live in a rich geeky world… have a wish," Harry called out.

Neville sighed and he silently wished that McGonagall won't send his wizard friends over to check if he's alright. Then he blew the 21 candles with stood out of the Chocolate Mud cake. He remembered the night when everything changed, after the war, he packed his bags and left the wizarding world and settled in the Muggle world just nicely. He is now the top ten best New York's journalist. Of course, back then, he hadn't known that Harry had his bags packed as well and was following him under his brown Invisibility Cloak.

"Where's Jamie?" rendered Neville, taking a seat in front of his big screen TV. Great I missed out on the news. Jamie was Neville's brunette house mate but Harry reckons he has the dibs on her.

There was no reply. He went downstairs. Windows were half opened, yards of gauzy white curtains blowing in the breeze like restless ghosts. Only when the wind dropped and the curtains settled did Neville see a slim figure resting on his leather lounge. The bookshelves looked like it's been rummaged thoroughly, half of its contents spilled over the blue rug below and one resided on Jamie's tender face. The piano bench lay open, contents neatly piled like a row of statues, Jamie's beloved music books spewing out on one corner.

God, what did she do now? Neville wondered silently.

He walked over to the kitchen. Dishes were piled nicely on its rack, the table was clear except for a bowl of assorted fruits in the center of the honey Jarrah. Neville walked over to the bench to make himself a cup of warm coffee, he had wasted his delicious Espresso in Starbucks a few minutes ago, thinking that his friends were in trouble. He admitted that he could use magic to make one drink, but he refrained himself from using any magic till it's required to do so.

"Harry?" Neville called out, concentrating on The Daily Messengers, reading the headlines.

"Be there in a sec," he heard a voice from upstairs.

What kind of idiot would hack into a police patrol car, wailing the sirens and racing through the town?

A noise sounded through the apartment, raising the short hairs along the nape of his neck. Like something rousing vibrantly. The sound was then followed by a dragging, slithering noise- and it was coming towards the kitchen. Stomach concentrating in terror, Neville scrambled to his feet and turned around slowly.

For a moment his heart sped up in his chest, but then he heaved a sigh of relief to see Jamie standing up groggily, rubbing her head.

"Do you have aspirins? My head hurts, I baked you that cake, and I was trying to compose music for you all evening-"Jamie sauntered and walked past Neville and rummaged through the cupboards. "But as you can see, it turned out to be a mess," she pointed to the common room.

"Top shelf, to the right," Neville directed her to a box filled with medications.

There was a moment of astonished silence before Jamie acknowledged Harry's presence then began to speak. "How's your day off?"

"Just the usual, spend some time with the guys for a ball game then we went for coffee," Neville replied. The kindness in her voice hurt; he turned slowly, and looked at Harry across the room but Harry left as soon as he entered, seeing that Neville wanted privacy.

"Neville, would you accompany me to St Marks for my annual photography session? Then maybe we'll have lunch out," asked Jamie. She thought how odd it was that, with Neville's dark hair and tired face, he looked so much matured.

Neville considered this for a second. The last time he went out with a girl, his doofus part took over and he ended up looking like the crazy man across the road, who sells flowers and ornaments. "Um… you know I'm-"

"You don't have to, but it'll be nice to get to know more about my housemate," added Jamie, gulping down a glass of water to wash off the aspirin.

"Deal," smiled Neville. He didn't move toward her but watched her across the room with a bird's bright-eyed stillness. Shit if I ever wrack this outing, I'll kill myself.

"You said you left your hometown," said Jamie "Where were you from?"

Neville raised his eyebrows "I'm from Winchester, England,"

"Cool, my granny stays there. I'm part British and part American,"

"You British?" snorted Neville, as they whizzed along the highway in his yellow Mazda.

"I am," Jamie said softly "But my family's dead now,"

"Dead? How?" Neville turned his steering wheel to the left, directing it to stay in the left lane.

"Fire broke out, I survived. Lived with my Aunt in New York ever since," muttered Jamie.

"Oh I'm sorry to hear-" Neville's look was quick, but Jamie saw it.

She said "Rumors heard it that it wasn't a normal fire break out, but someone with great force did it,"

"Great force?" Neville asked, his face a mask of astonishment.

"If I explain, you'll think I'm nuts," Jamie stared out the window.

"When were you born?" Neville asked again. The answer that was about to hit him, changed his perspective of Jamie ever since.

"31st of July," Jamie turned and faced Neville in the eye as if she was looking at her tutor with new eyes, Jamie thought that she had saw a fearsome look spread across Neville's face. "What's wrong with my birth date?"

"I have to ask you, did your parents happen to be killed when you were sleeping as a baby?" Neville's voice was dry with amusement in his voice.

"How'd you know that?" Jamie asked, bewildered by her discoveries.

"Lucky guess," sighed Neville as his head rested on the head rest, thinking how he'll react to her the whole day. Here he was trying to run away for wizards and magic but there was a witch living under the same roof as he.