Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter
The moon hung low against dark sky, full and bright. Its white light poured through the window of the high tower. All around the room, bright eyes were looking around, some with their beaks full of mouse. While the rest of the castle was deep in slumber, it seemed as if only the owls were wide awake. And Neville.
Neville had his head propped up by his hands, his elbows resting painfully on the stone slabs of the window. His face was lit up by the moon, and caressed by the cool night breeze. The rest of his body was thrown into a silhouette by the orange glow of his lantern, hanging on one of the rafters. He had come up to the Owlery, in the middle of the night, narrowly escaping Mrs. Norris, who was on a prowl to catch any free-running rats or students. He needed a quiet place to think, and in his mind, the Owlery seemed like the last place any one would go to at night.
Yes, he needed a place to think. His mind was a flurry of thoughts, and his creased face showed it. His upcoming seven detentions with Professor Snape, his rock-bottom Transfiguration grades, the call from the Healer at St. Mungo's, telling him that his mother had been murmuring his name repeatedly before fainting. And her. She always seems to pop into head just before he goes to bed, but tonight he couldn't get her out of his head.
A smile cracked on his worried face. She always seems to be there for him. Always whispering corrections to him during potions, and often getting into trouble with Professor Snape for that. The heated discussions they get into about Herbology in the library, with her pretty face turning flustered when she's trying to prove a point. Those weekend breakfasts they had alone in the grand hall, when everyone else was snoring away in their beds. The upset look she had when he returned back to the common room after a particularly nasty detention. The way she laughed at all his jokes. Ah, her beautiful, beautiful laugh, it still made him weak in the knees.
Neville was lost in his midnight respite, oblivious to his surroundings. The crack of the door sounded like a whip in the closed room. Neville spun around, his wand pointed at the figure standing in the doorway. He couldn't believe who he saw.
"N..Neville?" Hermione asked reproachfully.
It was at this point that Neville believed that the castle itself was full of magic. His thoughts had just materialised in front of him. There stood Hermione, in her soft pink night coat, holding up her lantern, squinting to get a better look at him.
"I thought I saw a lantern up in the Owlery. What are you doing here, Neville, this late into the night?"
"Oh hi Hermione, I couldn't sleep, and I thought I would get some fresh air." said Neville, his voice rough, from the sudden usage.
"Fresh air? Here?" Hermione eyed the rafters caked with dried owl droppings.
Neville laughed nervously.
"I might as well keep you company. I can't go back to sleep so soon."
Neville had recollection of what they spoke that night. All he remembered was how the moonlight accentuated the curls in her bushy, brown hair. How her hands kept sweeping the loose strands of hair out of her face. How her toothy grin broke into a laugh. He knew he had to ask her tonight. The question had been burning in him for quite a while, and he knew that she would say yes. But every time he had a chance, the words chocked in his throat. Tonight though, he would say it. He knew it. He waited for a pause in the conversation. And just as he thought that, the pause came.
"Umm, Hermione, you know, I've been wanting to ask you this for a while.. Umm.. You know, umm, the Yule Ball, is coming up next week. And I was, um, thinking, do you want to go to the it, I mean the Yule Ball, with me?"
He looked up into her face and there and then, he felt his heart crack.
"Oh Neville! I can't! Victor, Victor Krum, asked me yesterday. And I said yes!" Hermione's eyes were moist with tears, "Oh Neville, I never saw you as..."
