A/N: Huh. These are turning out way shorter than originally planned, but whatever. It works. Enjoy.
He can't clear his mind.
No matter how hard he tries, Neville just cannot get his mind to go blank. It isn't something that usually bothers him, or gives him any amount of trouble. After all, he's had a lot of practice with it growing up - from the lessons on etiquette that he blocked out, to the scornful comments that his gran threw his way.
But it won't work. Not today.
Everything that has in the past, counting and drifting and focusing on a crack in the wall, it all just washes over him, leaving behind a thick coat of exhaustion. Bringing annoyance, anger, and seldom felt rage with it. Taking away his peace, his comfort, and the one thought that everything will be fine, that it's just a phase, that he won't dissapoint his gran in this department too.
His mind spins and spins and spins, and then the door to detention finally swings open and it comes to a complete stop.
"What are you doing here, Longbottom? Manage to blow up your cauldron again?" jibes Draco, raising one slender eyebrow at the lanky teen across from him.
Neville smacks his lips together and shrugs, cheeks suddenly burning. He forces himself to turn away from his apparant detention partner and look at his potions homework instead - and, wow, Fate is really taunting him, isn't it? In front of him, the words swim across the paper, and he's very aware of the fact that Draco takes a seat right beside him.
He forces himself not to look. To clear his mind and focus on his essay. To go back to the way he used to be, when he was afraid of the Slytherin sitting next to him.
But his mind won't turn off, and it won't let go of the sight of those steel-blue eyes.