...No Good Very Bad Day
Disclaimer: Neville Longbottom belongs to JK Rowling, as does Percy Weasley. In fact, nothing about this story is original at all except for the story itself, and I'm not making any money off of it.
Also, this fic is not based on Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day by Someone Whose Name I Don't Remember. I just didn't know what else to call it.
Beware that this is a tree-killing, sheep-shearing fic, meaning lots of sap and fluff.
This takes place during Book 3, so there are a few spoilers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sigh.
It had been a long day, far too long of a day in Percy's opinion. Of course, his days had always been long. Up at 6 to get to class at 7, enforcing rules, resolving disputes, and somehow finding time for homework had been tiring enough. Now, with the threat of Sirius Black looming, Percy had found himself assigned to patrol the corridors at night with the other seventh years, keeping watch over the littler ones. The added responsibility had driven Percy almost to the point of physical collapse.
But whenever his brain threatened to shut down while on duty, a vision of slashed curtains and Ron's terrified face came into his mind, and he would redouble his efforts.
He was done for the night, though. McGonagall had relieved him, and he was off to Gryffindor Tower for a night of well-deserved rest. As he was about to round the final corner that would lead to the Fat Lady, he heard her voice ring out, and instinctively paused to listen.
"Sorry, love, if you don't know the password, I can't let you in. You know how it is."
Percy peered around the corner. Neville Longbottom stood in front of the portrait door, wiping his eyes. He slumped to the floor with a shaky sigh and sat with his back to the wall, curling his legs up and hugging himself close.
Percy felt a momentary surge of annoyance. Here he was, exhausting himself to keep the other students safe, and Neville had the nerve to get locked out *again*?
At least he hadn't written the password down this time. Percy was sure he'd save Black the trouble of killing whoever was stupid enough to do *that* again.
He was about to go chastise Neville for wandering around at night and let them both into the tower, but his righteous irritation suddenly gave way. The slight shaking of Neville's shoulders told him that Neville was in bad enough shape as it was; he didn't need a lecture. Percy found himself thinking that *he* could do without the lecture as well-he just didn't have the energy for it.
Percy thought for a bit. Then he left.
~~~~~
From the Journal of Neville Longbottom:
Until a few minutes ago, I hated today.
Of course, all my days are mediocre at best, but today was truly spectacular.
I melted yet another cauldron in Potions yesterday. Snape yelled at me. I got a detention. Ordinary stuff, right?
It was, until I got the Howler at breakfast this morning. Sometimes I hate my Gran. I know I shouldn't-she raised me, after all-but I wish she didn't think I was an idiot. I mean, I know I am, but I wish she didn't *think* it.
Either way, she just kept going on and on about how much money I was wasting, melting cauldrons all the time, as if I didn't know already. Sometimes I think I'm what Hermione calls a black hole; you put stuff in- money, time, effort-and you never get anything back for it. Waste-of-space Neville, that's me.
It was alright, actually, until she started yelling about how my *father* never melted a cauldron, *he* always got good grades. When it got to that, I spilled my milk all over my waffles, and by the time I got it cleaned up, it was time for class, so no breakfast for Neville today!
I had Defense Against the Dark Arts first. You'd think I'd be happy- it's one of the two classes I actually like-and I was, until Professor Lupin handed back our kappa quizzes. Until I saw the 42% at the top of the page.
I don't know when I felt crummier-that particular moment, or when Professor Lupin held me behind after class and asked me if there was any way at all he could help me learn this stuff. He thought it was *his* fault, that his inexperience at teaching had caused me to become confused.
I couldn't stand it. Professor Lupin is just about the only person who thinks I have more than three brain cells to rub together, and I've failed him. Again. He's so tired already, and here I am, causing him more grief.
I have to convince him that trying to help me learn magic is like trying to drain the sea with a sieve. I'm completely useless. He shouldn't be wasting his energy on me.
Damn. I *was* in a good mood. I really shouldn't have recounted my day. But I guess I have to get through the bad part to get to the good part. And I really want to get back to the good part. So...Here it goes.
After lunch (I didn't spill or break anything, for once) I had a special treat-Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins!
Malfoy made fun of me all through class, of course. Told me to donate my melted cauldrons to the Weasleys so they could sell them for scrap metal. Now, usually either Hagrid or one of the other Gryffindors tells Malfoy to shut up. Not this time. No one even noticed.
Parvati and Lavender were off to the side, giggling as usual. How come *I'm* the one who pays attention and *they're* the ones who pass their classes? Not fair at all. Maybe I should giggle too. It can't hurt; sure they'll laugh, but I'm used to that. And it looks like fun. They seem happy. I'd like to be happy.
Seamus and Dean were arguing Quidditch versus "soccer" again. I really wish Dean would give it up; it's got to be Quidditch, all the way. I mean, one ball, on the ground? What fun is that? Maybe I'm just bitter because they were so busy with West Ham they couldn't rescue me. Not like it's their job or anything.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were whispering about Sirius Black. They didn't even hear Malfoy, I'm sure, because Ron can usually hear an insult a mile away, and he never lets one slip past him. So they have an excuse. Still, they really didn't need to be talking about Sirius Black. I mean, it's bad enough with all the Dementors around, making everyone depressed- they didn't need to scare me as well.
Then again, when did they ever notice me?
Hagrid probably would have stopped Malfoy's abuse, but he was all teary-eyed over that hippogriff-Buckbeak-again. Seems it's been sentenced to death. Stupid Malfoy, making Hagrid sad like that, just for fun. I feel bad for Hagrid. I feel bad for Buckbeak too. I mean, I liked the hippogriffs; they only judged me by how respectful I was to them. They didn't care that I'm practically a Squib.
I was so relieved when Hagrid told us to put our flobberworms away; by this time Malfoy had started wondering aloud when I would manage to kill mine. I rushed back to the castle and just hid up in my dorm, reading for Herbology. Professor Sprout's been as nice to me as Professor Lupin; I don't want to let her down as well.
After dinner, I read some more, left the Tower, got my leg caught in the trick step (of course), then went back to the Great Hall and met up with Filch, who took me to Hagrid to serve my detention. Seems Hagrid needed to find a good deal of wolfsbane in the Forbidden Forest-I'm not quite sure why he needed it, but I think he might be keeping something illegal again. I shouldn't pry; it's none of my business.
I didn't want to go into the Forest again. Sure, Hagrid stayed with me this time, but still...The first time scared me so much. The trees all seemed to be reaching out at me, I kept on stumbling on roots and Malfoy scaring me half to death for *no good reason* didn't help at all.
But the thing I remember most about the Forbidden Forest is the unicorn blood, all silvery, like mercury in the moonlight. If something's *blood* is that beautiful, I can't imagine anyone cruel enough to try and hurt the actual creature.
Fortunately, this time my visit to the Forest was a short one. Turns out the reason Hagrid needed me along was because he was too tall to see the wolfsbane growing at his feet; the light didn't reach that far down. We gathered up the plants and headed back. Hagrid walked me to the castle. I was glad. Wouldn't do to leave the Forest alive, only to be chopped down by some crazy escapee from Azkaban.
So I started walking back to Gryffindor Tower, and Filch showed up, screaming at me about how I've left dirt all over his nice clean floor. I couldn't even *see* it. And it's a stone floor; it's not like it isn't going to get a *little* dirty *sometimes*. I got away as soon as I could and ran, all the way to the Fat Lady.
Then, of course, I realized I'd forgotten the password.
Grand finale to an absolutely wonderful day. I curled up next to the wall and started crying.
I'm not sure how long I was there. It couldn't have been too long, though, I wasn't stiff when someone put their hand on my shoulder and shook me a little.
I dried my eyes and looked up; Percy Weasley, Head Boy extraordinaire. He stood and held out his hand, and when I took it, he pulled me up. I closed my eyes and waited for the lecture I knew was coming. But it didn't come. So I opened my eyes.
He was holding out a mug to me, so I took it, sniffed the contents. Hot cocoa. With just a hint of cinnamon. My most favorite drink in the world. And Percy Weasley was *smiling* at me.
Now, Percy Weasley isn't the kind of person who just smiles all the time. His smiles mean something; he gives them out exactly when he means to. And he was smiling. At *me*. Even if it was a little nervous.
I smiled back. "Thanks," I said, and I'm so proud I didn't start crying again, because I was close, I really was.
"Let's get to bed," he said, and then he let us into the Tower and walked me to my dorm. I said goodnight, sat down on my bed, sipped my cocoa, started thinking.
Percy had bothered to cheer me up. He had gotten me hot cocoa. He had probably gone all the way down to the kitchens to get it. He had been on patrol all night. He knew what I liked to drink. I finished my cocoa and started writing.
Until about an hour ago, I hated today.
Now, I look forward to tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This fic is dedicated to the wonderful Proctor who let me into my dorm room when I had locked myself out after a truly awful day. Even though s/he will never read this, I say it now: Thank you. Your act of kindness made my day bearable.
Disclaimer: Neville Longbottom belongs to JK Rowling, as does Percy Weasley. In fact, nothing about this story is original at all except for the story itself, and I'm not making any money off of it.
Also, this fic is not based on Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day by Someone Whose Name I Don't Remember. I just didn't know what else to call it.
Beware that this is a tree-killing, sheep-shearing fic, meaning lots of sap and fluff.
This takes place during Book 3, so there are a few spoilers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sigh.
It had been a long day, far too long of a day in Percy's opinion. Of course, his days had always been long. Up at 6 to get to class at 7, enforcing rules, resolving disputes, and somehow finding time for homework had been tiring enough. Now, with the threat of Sirius Black looming, Percy had found himself assigned to patrol the corridors at night with the other seventh years, keeping watch over the littler ones. The added responsibility had driven Percy almost to the point of physical collapse.
But whenever his brain threatened to shut down while on duty, a vision of slashed curtains and Ron's terrified face came into his mind, and he would redouble his efforts.
He was done for the night, though. McGonagall had relieved him, and he was off to Gryffindor Tower for a night of well-deserved rest. As he was about to round the final corner that would lead to the Fat Lady, he heard her voice ring out, and instinctively paused to listen.
"Sorry, love, if you don't know the password, I can't let you in. You know how it is."
Percy peered around the corner. Neville Longbottom stood in front of the portrait door, wiping his eyes. He slumped to the floor with a shaky sigh and sat with his back to the wall, curling his legs up and hugging himself close.
Percy felt a momentary surge of annoyance. Here he was, exhausting himself to keep the other students safe, and Neville had the nerve to get locked out *again*?
At least he hadn't written the password down this time. Percy was sure he'd save Black the trouble of killing whoever was stupid enough to do *that* again.
He was about to go chastise Neville for wandering around at night and let them both into the tower, but his righteous irritation suddenly gave way. The slight shaking of Neville's shoulders told him that Neville was in bad enough shape as it was; he didn't need a lecture. Percy found himself thinking that *he* could do without the lecture as well-he just didn't have the energy for it.
Percy thought for a bit. Then he left.
~~~~~
From the Journal of Neville Longbottom:
Until a few minutes ago, I hated today.
Of course, all my days are mediocre at best, but today was truly spectacular.
I melted yet another cauldron in Potions yesterday. Snape yelled at me. I got a detention. Ordinary stuff, right?
It was, until I got the Howler at breakfast this morning. Sometimes I hate my Gran. I know I shouldn't-she raised me, after all-but I wish she didn't think I was an idiot. I mean, I know I am, but I wish she didn't *think* it.
Either way, she just kept going on and on about how much money I was wasting, melting cauldrons all the time, as if I didn't know already. Sometimes I think I'm what Hermione calls a black hole; you put stuff in- money, time, effort-and you never get anything back for it. Waste-of-space Neville, that's me.
It was alright, actually, until she started yelling about how my *father* never melted a cauldron, *he* always got good grades. When it got to that, I spilled my milk all over my waffles, and by the time I got it cleaned up, it was time for class, so no breakfast for Neville today!
I had Defense Against the Dark Arts first. You'd think I'd be happy- it's one of the two classes I actually like-and I was, until Professor Lupin handed back our kappa quizzes. Until I saw the 42% at the top of the page.
I don't know when I felt crummier-that particular moment, or when Professor Lupin held me behind after class and asked me if there was any way at all he could help me learn this stuff. He thought it was *his* fault, that his inexperience at teaching had caused me to become confused.
I couldn't stand it. Professor Lupin is just about the only person who thinks I have more than three brain cells to rub together, and I've failed him. Again. He's so tired already, and here I am, causing him more grief.
I have to convince him that trying to help me learn magic is like trying to drain the sea with a sieve. I'm completely useless. He shouldn't be wasting his energy on me.
Damn. I *was* in a good mood. I really shouldn't have recounted my day. But I guess I have to get through the bad part to get to the good part. And I really want to get back to the good part. So...Here it goes.
After lunch (I didn't spill or break anything, for once) I had a special treat-Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins!
Malfoy made fun of me all through class, of course. Told me to donate my melted cauldrons to the Weasleys so they could sell them for scrap metal. Now, usually either Hagrid or one of the other Gryffindors tells Malfoy to shut up. Not this time. No one even noticed.
Parvati and Lavender were off to the side, giggling as usual. How come *I'm* the one who pays attention and *they're* the ones who pass their classes? Not fair at all. Maybe I should giggle too. It can't hurt; sure they'll laugh, but I'm used to that. And it looks like fun. They seem happy. I'd like to be happy.
Seamus and Dean were arguing Quidditch versus "soccer" again. I really wish Dean would give it up; it's got to be Quidditch, all the way. I mean, one ball, on the ground? What fun is that? Maybe I'm just bitter because they were so busy with West Ham they couldn't rescue me. Not like it's their job or anything.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were whispering about Sirius Black. They didn't even hear Malfoy, I'm sure, because Ron can usually hear an insult a mile away, and he never lets one slip past him. So they have an excuse. Still, they really didn't need to be talking about Sirius Black. I mean, it's bad enough with all the Dementors around, making everyone depressed- they didn't need to scare me as well.
Then again, when did they ever notice me?
Hagrid probably would have stopped Malfoy's abuse, but he was all teary-eyed over that hippogriff-Buckbeak-again. Seems it's been sentenced to death. Stupid Malfoy, making Hagrid sad like that, just for fun. I feel bad for Hagrid. I feel bad for Buckbeak too. I mean, I liked the hippogriffs; they only judged me by how respectful I was to them. They didn't care that I'm practically a Squib.
I was so relieved when Hagrid told us to put our flobberworms away; by this time Malfoy had started wondering aloud when I would manage to kill mine. I rushed back to the castle and just hid up in my dorm, reading for Herbology. Professor Sprout's been as nice to me as Professor Lupin; I don't want to let her down as well.
After dinner, I read some more, left the Tower, got my leg caught in the trick step (of course), then went back to the Great Hall and met up with Filch, who took me to Hagrid to serve my detention. Seems Hagrid needed to find a good deal of wolfsbane in the Forbidden Forest-I'm not quite sure why he needed it, but I think he might be keeping something illegal again. I shouldn't pry; it's none of my business.
I didn't want to go into the Forest again. Sure, Hagrid stayed with me this time, but still...The first time scared me so much. The trees all seemed to be reaching out at me, I kept on stumbling on roots and Malfoy scaring me half to death for *no good reason* didn't help at all.
But the thing I remember most about the Forbidden Forest is the unicorn blood, all silvery, like mercury in the moonlight. If something's *blood* is that beautiful, I can't imagine anyone cruel enough to try and hurt the actual creature.
Fortunately, this time my visit to the Forest was a short one. Turns out the reason Hagrid needed me along was because he was too tall to see the wolfsbane growing at his feet; the light didn't reach that far down. We gathered up the plants and headed back. Hagrid walked me to the castle. I was glad. Wouldn't do to leave the Forest alive, only to be chopped down by some crazy escapee from Azkaban.
So I started walking back to Gryffindor Tower, and Filch showed up, screaming at me about how I've left dirt all over his nice clean floor. I couldn't even *see* it. And it's a stone floor; it's not like it isn't going to get a *little* dirty *sometimes*. I got away as soon as I could and ran, all the way to the Fat Lady.
Then, of course, I realized I'd forgotten the password.
Grand finale to an absolutely wonderful day. I curled up next to the wall and started crying.
I'm not sure how long I was there. It couldn't have been too long, though, I wasn't stiff when someone put their hand on my shoulder and shook me a little.
I dried my eyes and looked up; Percy Weasley, Head Boy extraordinaire. He stood and held out his hand, and when I took it, he pulled me up. I closed my eyes and waited for the lecture I knew was coming. But it didn't come. So I opened my eyes.
He was holding out a mug to me, so I took it, sniffed the contents. Hot cocoa. With just a hint of cinnamon. My most favorite drink in the world. And Percy Weasley was *smiling* at me.
Now, Percy Weasley isn't the kind of person who just smiles all the time. His smiles mean something; he gives them out exactly when he means to. And he was smiling. At *me*. Even if it was a little nervous.
I smiled back. "Thanks," I said, and I'm so proud I didn't start crying again, because I was close, I really was.
"Let's get to bed," he said, and then he let us into the Tower and walked me to my dorm. I said goodnight, sat down on my bed, sipped my cocoa, started thinking.
Percy had bothered to cheer me up. He had gotten me hot cocoa. He had probably gone all the way down to the kitchens to get it. He had been on patrol all night. He knew what I liked to drink. I finished my cocoa and started writing.
Until about an hour ago, I hated today.
Now, I look forward to tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This fic is dedicated to the wonderful Proctor who let me into my dorm room when I had locked myself out after a truly awful day. Even though s/he will never read this, I say it now: Thank you. Your act of kindness made my day bearable.