A/N: I now have a twitter! (WriterKrisPilar) I welcome anyone who follows me or my stories here to follow me there as well. I'll often post updates on my writing progress or when unexpected delays come up.

Chapter Ten:

Visiting Friends

No one slept well that night. Elizabeth woke up the next morning with vague inklings of an odd dream involving a dark corridor, but as soon as she had sat up the dream vanished from memory. As she and the other girls got dressed, all three of them avoided looking to Hannah's empty bed.

It was a long, quiet breakfast where no one ate much. Megan said she was going to take a walk and Susan mentioned writing a letter home. Elizabeth still had her Charms essay to finish, so she decided to go up to the library, though she ran into Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the stairs—Harry and Ron both had Quidditch gear on and brooms over their shoulders. Ron looked like he was about to pass out.

"How's Hannah?" Hermione asked, "We didn't see any of you at dinner last night."

"She left," Elizabeth said, "Her mother was killed..."

"That's horrible!" Hermione's face went pale, her hands going over her mouth. Elizabeth sighed.

"It is," she said, "We can't do anything though...Shouldn't you get down to the pitch? Tryouts are about to start."

"Yeah, we're on our way," Harry said, "We're going to visit Hagrid after tryouts. Do you want to come?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth said, "Tryouts should take a few hours, right? I'm going to go work on some homework and I'll meet you down there. Good luck, Ron."

Ron gave a weak nod and Elizabeth wasn't too sure he even heard her. He, Harry, and Hermione headed on down the stairway and Elizabeth went on up to the library.

She found her favorite table by the window on one of the upper levels of the library and pulled out her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Six, then her parchment, quill, and ink. She was already about halfway through the essay. It was just a matter of trying to remember where her train of thought left off and picking it back up.

The problem was that Elizabeth couldn't seem to focus. She instead found herself looking out the window. Elizabeth always loved this specific table of the view out the window. It was along the wall of the castle that was nestled along the lake, so there was always a great view of the water far below. She could see the Quidditch pitch off in the distance and small black dots zooming around. It seemed the Quidditch tryouts had started.

"Elizabeth? Are you okay?"

Elizabeth jumped a little, turning to see Neville standing next to the table, his school bag over his shoulder.

"Just a rough night," Elizabeth said, "Want to sit down?"

Neville nodded, slipping into the chair across from Elizabeth and putting his bag on the floor.

"I heard about Hannah," he said awkwardly. Elizabeth nodded, glancing down to her untouched essay.

"She won't be coming back," she said, "She decided to drop out to help her father."

"Are you okay, though?"

The question took Elizabeth off-guard. She stared at Neville, trying to decide how to answer. Talking with Neville had always been comfortable because they never actually talked. At least, not about anything more than Quidditch or their classes. They had always been a distraction for each other at St. Mungo's, never prying into the other's personal life. Maybe that's why they'd never been particularly close...

"It's just..." Elizabeth started slowly, "Sometimes you can pretend things are normal. Then something like this happens..."

"And you're reminded of everything," Neville said.

"Yeah..." Elizabeth gave a sigh. Neville nodded, but didn't say anything. Elizabeth wondered if he was thinking about his parents. He never talked about them. After all they'd been through together, Elizabeth felt an urge to just be there for Neville. To be more than just a distraction from his troubles. She wanted to be someone he could confide in.

"Are you okay?" she asked a bit hesitantly, "I mean, you go through just as much as any of us, but you never talk about it."

"M'fine," Neville muttered, staring out the window.

Elizabeth sighed, watching Neville. One thing the two of them had in common was they tended to keep their problems to themselves. Even among her friends, Elizabeth didn't bring up her own problems unless pressed. Other people's issues were far more important than her own. Neville was the same. She also knew, however, that sometimes you needed to talk and she wanted to be there for Neville. Maybe if she opened up, she could get Neville to as well.

"My family is falling apart," Elizabeth said softly, watching the sun reflect off the lake outside, "We've been trying to hide it, but...After Aunt Ginger died..." Elizabeth's voice faltered and she stared determinedly out the window, feeling the tears starting to sting. "Uncle Xavier has disappeared. Mum and I are raising Ursula. Lewis blames me for what happened...He hasn't spoken to any of us since summer."

"What? How can he blame you?" Neville asked in disbelief.

Elizabeth kept her gaze out the window, tucking back some of her hair.

"He thinks that if I hadn't followed Harry," Elizabeth said quietly, "Then Aunt Ginger wouldn't have gone to help fight. That she wouldn't have been killed." Elizabeth paused. "Mum says Aunt Ginger would have gone no matter what, but sometimes I wonder if she blames me too..."

Elizabeth had never said this out loud, not even to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Not even to Susan. She knew her mother didn't blame her for what happened, but the thought still kept coming across her mind. She could never shake it.

"She'd be mad if she does," Neville said.

Elizabeth glanced to Neville, reaching up to wipe tears from her eyes. He was watching her now, an odd, unreadable look on his face.

"I don't think she does," Elizabeth whispered, "But at the same time, I sometimes wonder how she can't..." Elizabeth paused again, watching Neville. "I guess I should consider myself lucky, though."

Neville seemed to realize what Elizabeth meant. Even though she had all these problems, she still had them. Neville was sitting here with parents who didn't even recognize him.

"I must sound pathetic," Elizabeth whispered, moving to the full reason she started talking about this—even though she oddly felt better getting it off her chest, "I bet you would much prefer having family issues like mine."

Neville's face flushed as he looked away, his expression tightening. Elizabeth tensed a little. Had she pushed things too far? After all, even though she and Neville had known each other for years they'd never exactly been close.

"I have plenty of my own," Neville said so quietly Elizabeth barely heard him. Elizabeth felt herself relax a little in the fact that Neville had said something at least.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked softly.

Neville was silent long enough that she wondered if that one comment was all she was going to get from him. She found herself fighting not to hold her breath, afraid that even the sound of that would break some hold and Neville would hide back in his shell.

"Gran is telling me all the time how brave my parents were," Neville finally said—he was the one now with his gaze locked out the window, "She's always saying I'm not living up to their sacrifice. And she's right. They gave their sanity for me and all I am is a disappointment."

"You are not a disappointment!" Elizabeth said sharply, "You're one of the strongest people I know, Neville."

Neville muttered something that Elizabeth didn't quite hear and she sighed, reaching over and resting her hand on Neville's arm. He looked at her quickly.

"Your gran doesn't know anything," she said, "I told you before, just look at what you did at the Department of Mysteries. You're not your parents and your grandmother has no right to try and force you to be them. She seems stuck in the past. She wants her son back and is ignoring the grandson in front of her."

"She probably blames me for what happened to them," Neville said.

"What're you talking about?" Elizabeth asked, feeling sick at that thought, "Neville, you were a toddler. You can't be responsible—that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Elizabeth said, her hand tightening closed and it took a moment for her to remember she was still holding Neville's arm. She let go quickly. Neville gave her a weak grin.

"Even if it is, I can't help it if the thought's there," he said.

Elizabeth fidgeted a little, realizing she had said the exact same thing about her own self-blame. She looked down quickly at her hands folded together over her abandoned essay. She and Neville really were a lot more alike than she ever thought.

"Look," Elizabeth said softly, finally looking up again, "You are not responsible for your parents. The Death Eaters are. And you stood up to them at the Department of Mysteries. If I had to say, I'd think your parents would be damn proud of that."

Again, Neville didn't respond. He wasn't looking away, however. He was staring at Elizabeth, that unreadable expression still on his face. Elizabeth bit her lower lip, finding herself wondering what he was thinking. Was he at least taking in any of what she had said?

"Just...Just think about it, okay?" Elizabeth asked softly, "You're better than you think you are."

"You must have very low expectations," Neville said quietly.

Elizabeth sighed, shaking her head. She wished Neville could see how amazing he was. How could he be so blind?

"And I think you and your grandmother put expectations too high," Elizabeth said, getting to her feet, gathering her things, "You'll never be your father and you shouldn't want to be. You should live your own life, not someone else's. After all, Neville Longbottom, Herbologist Extraordinaire is the buy I'm friends with. Not the shadow of a former Auror his grandmother is constantly pushing onto him."

Elizabeth turned and walked off, leaving Neville behind at the table. It seemed their conversation at the lake a couple of weeks ago hadn't made any difference and she doubted today did either, but she still felt a determination to try. Neville deserved to see just how amazing a person he actually was.

The thought of how to get through to Neville went through Elizabeth's mind all the way through the castle and out onto the grounds. It seemed she had good timing as well. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were at Hagrid's hut, Harry bowing to Buckbeak as Elizabeth approached.

"I made Keeper!" Ron said excitedly before Elizabeth could even ask. She laughed, grinning at her friends.

"That's great!" she said, "Who else is on the team?"

"Katie's still a Chaser," Harry said from where he was petting Buckbeak, "And we have Ginny and this other girl, Demelza Robins. And a couple of third years, Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote, for Beaters."

"That's great!" Elizabeth said, "Congratulations."

"Oi!" Hagrid came around the other side of the hut at the same time as Elizabeth reached her friends. "Get away from him! He'll have yer fingers—oh. Its yeh lot."

Hagrid spun on his heel, marching back to his cabin and slamming the door behind him. Fang—who had been attempting to knock Harry over in an attempt to lick his face—dropped back and looked to the door, then to the others.

"This isn't good," Elizabeth whispered. She had told the others about how Hagrid took the news of them not continuing Care of Magical Creatures and it seemed as if Hagrid was still sour about it.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, walking up to the door and banging on it, "Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!"

The door remained firmly shut. Elizabeth glanced to the others as Harry pulled out his wand.

"If you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!" Harry yelled.

"Harry!" Elizabeth hissed, but Harry's threat had done the trick. Hagrid pulled open the door, staring down at them with a look so sour, Elizabeth took a cautious step backwards.

"I'm a teacher!' Hagrid's voice shook with a fury Elizabeth rarely saw, "A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry replied, his own voice cool. Elizabeth stared at them, then to Ron and Hermione—both seemed as shocked as she did.

"Since when have yeh called me 'sir'?" Hagrid demanded.

"Since when have you called me 'Potter'?"

"Oh, very clever. Very amusin'," Hagrid grumbled, "That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little..."

Hagrid stepped aside, muttering under his breath. Elizabeth glanced at the others, then slowly stepped inside. Hagrid's hut was much the same as always—warm and cozy with oversized furniture and mugs—though there was one difference: A large barrel filled with something white and squirming. Elizabeth tried not to stare as she sat at Hagrid's table. Fang immediately rested his head on Harry's lap. Elizabeth found herself secretly glad it wasn't her. The smell of dog drool was incredibly hard to get out of robes.

"Well?" Hagrid asked sharply, "What's this? Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?"

"No," Harry said, "We wanted to see you."

"We missed you!" Hermione added.

"Missed me, have yeh? Yeah. Righ'."

Hagrid turned and marched across his hut, still muttering under his breath. He was rather cold about the way he poured mugs of tea and dropped them in front of everyone at the table. Elizabeth glanced at the others with a worried look.

"Hagrid, I told you they couldn't fit Care of Magical Creatures into their schedules," Elizabeth said slowly. She found herself half-relieved, half-guilty that she'd never taken the class herself.

"We really did try!" Hermione said insistently.

"Yeah. Righ'."

Hermione looked helplessly to the others. Harry looked around quickly, then noticed the barrel Elizabeth had seen when they first came in.

"What are they, Hagrid?" Harry asked quickly.

"Jus' giant grubs," Hagrid replied shortly.

"And they grow into..." Ron started slowly.

"They won' grow inter nuthin'," Hagrid said, "I got 'em ter feed ter Aragog."

At the mention of the massive spider, Hagrid buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook as he sobbed and Elizabeth leapt to her feet, hurrying forward. Hermione was right behind.

"I think he's dyin'..." Hagrid looked back up slowly, wiping tears from his face, "He got ill over the summer an' he's not gettin' better...I don' know what I'll do if he...if he...We've bin tergether so long..."

Elizabeth put an arm around Hagrid—though the best she could do was rest her hand on his back—and tried to think of what it would be like for her to lose Cream. Of course, her cat was simply that—a cat. Cream wasn't a fifty-foot spider with a massive clan of murderous offspring. All of whom had once tried to eat her, Harry, and Ron during their second year.

"Is there—is there anything we can do?" Hermione asked and Ron's eyes went wide, his face paling.

"I don' think there is, Hermione," Hagrid said weakly, patting his face with a large handkerchief, "See, the rest o' the tribe...Aragog's family...they're gettin' a bit funny now he's ill...bit restive..."

"Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side of them," Ron muttered. Elizabeth glared at him.

"I don' reckon it'd be safe fer anyone but me ter go near the colony at the mo'," Hagrid said, "But thanks fer offerin', Hermione...It means a lot..."

Hagrid blew his nose, the cold air he'd had towards the four fading away. He redid their cups of tea, sighing as he did so.

"Ar, I always knew yeh three'd find it hard ter squeeze me inter your timetables," he said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "Even if yeh applied for Time-Turners—"

"We couldn't have done," Hermione said, "We smashed the entire stock of Ministry Time-Turners when we were there last summer. It was in the Daily Prophet."

"Ar, well then," Hagrid shrugged, "There's no way yeh could've done it...I'm sorry I've bin—yeh know—Elizabeth told me the firs' day about it, but...I've jus' bin worried abou' Aragog...An' I did wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had bin teachin' yeh—"

Elizabeth spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Harry, Ron, and Hermione go on about how bad of a teacher Professor Grubbly-Plank was and how they had much preferred Hagrid's lessons. The lies cheered Hagrid considerably and Elizabeth was glad to see him better as they made their way up to the castle for dinner.

"I'm starving," Harry said, "And I've got that detention with Snape tonight, I haven't got much time for dinner..."

Elizabeth felt her stomach growl and realized she hadn't eaten much of anything since lunch the day before. She hurried to the Great Hall, but Ron stopped at the doorway, turning back around. Elizabeth stopped as well, turning to see Harry and Hermione a bit away from them, talking quietly.

"What are you two doing?" Ron called to them. Both turned quickly.

"Nothing," they said, hurrying after them.

Elizabeth's stomach was growling more now. The smell of dinner was making her mouth water and she was very eager to eat a good meal now that her appetite was back. Unfortunately, as soon as they were through the door, Professor Slughorn had shown up, blocking their path. Elizabeth noticed Harry didn't look too pleased and Ron's face turned sour. Elizabeth knew that Harry—thanks to the notes in the Half-Blood Prince's book—had quickly become Slughorn's best student in Potions.

"Harry, Harry, just the man I was hoping to see!" Slughorn said cheerfully, "I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars, I've got McLaggen coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin—I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries—and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Granger will favor me by coming too."

As Slughorn made a bow to Hermione, Elizabeth was well aware that she was good as invisible. She took the chance to slip away towards the Hufflepuff table—Harry shooting her a glare as she did so. Elizabeth gave him a weak grin, finding where Susan and Sarah were sitting with Ernie and Justin. She was eager for a good, warm meal.