The Houses Competition: [Y7] Round Eight - Never be Forgotten
House: Hufflepuff
Position: DADA
Type: Drabble
Prompt: [Object] Remembrall
Word Count: 861 words
Neville paced the floor of the Room of Requirement. Back and forth. Back and forth. The 17-year-old fidgeted with his wand, removing it from his belt and putting it back in. A black eye from defending a first-year from the new Slytherin head boy glistened on his face. Around him rested pillows and pads for dueling practice and an assortment of targets to aim for.
Recalling Dumbledore's Army was the right thing to do. The students Harry had taught two years ago were older and more experienced now. With Harry and Dumbledore both gone, the best defense in a Hogwarts run by Death Eaters was for them to band back together.
The necessity of what he was doing did nothing to ease Neville's anxiety. He checked his watch. There were 15 more minutes before the meeting officially started, and students snuck into the room one or two at a time to avoid suspicion. Neville readjusted the pillow in front of him and changed his direction of pacing.
"Breathe, just breathe," he whispered to himself, "Mum and Dad weren't much older than you when they started fighting. You can do this, Neville." Distracted by his internal pep-talk, Neville collided with the cabinet leaning against the far wall of the room.
"Ow!" Neville was jolted back to the present and noticed a drawer had come open with the force of the collision. He peered inside. A glass ball sat on a purple cushion in the otherwise empty drawer. Turning it over in his hands, Neville noticed a small scratch on the side and white smoke swirling inside. It was the same Remembrall Gran had given him in his first year; Malfoy had scratched it during the broom chase during their first flying lesson.
Neville lowered himself to a nearby pillow. He gazed at the Remembrall held in his hands.
"Come on," he addressed the object, "I must be forgetting something. Just tell me, I can't screw this up." The Remembrall remained stubbornly clear.
"I made sure to track down all the coins to make sure none were lost or stolen. And I practiced my speech. Nearly Headless Nick assured me that no prefects patrol this corridor at this time. I've planned what spells to cover. What else is there? There can't be any mistakes."
The Remembrall had warmed from the heat of Neville's hands, but its color remained stubbornly clear. Neville gave up and let it roll across the floor as he rested his head on the wall behind him.
On the other side of the room, the wall rearranged itself into a small entryway. Neville watched Luna crawl through.
"Oh, hello Neville," she greeted him, "I hope the Wrackspurts haven't been bothering you recently?"
"Hi Luna," he replied, "it's nice to see you here." He declined to comment on the Wrackspurts.
"What's this?" Luna asked, picking up Remembrall that had rolled close to the door.
"It's an old Remembrall my Gran got me years ago. I don't think it's working, though. I don't know why the room decided we needed it.
"Oh no," Luna exclaimed, the Remembrall glowing red in her hand, "I forgot to set the Dabberblimp traps before I left home. I hope Dad remembers…'' she trailed off.
"Oh," Neville said, "I couldn't get it to change color."
"Maybe you're not forgetting anything."
Neville did not understand how his friend looked so relaxed under such dire circumstances, "How can I not be forgetting anything? There are dozens of students in the DA and more in the school to protect." We're taking classes taught by Death Eaters, and every time I eat breakfast, I have to watch Snape sit in the headmaster's seat like he belongs there. If any of us don't learn a spell we need or get caught sneaking around or make even a tiny mistake around the wrong person, it could end with them being killed or tortured, maybe irreparably!" Neville realized he was yelling.
"I'm sorry, Luna. I didn't mean to yell at you."
The 16-year-old moved to sit next to Neville, seemingly unperturbed by his outburst.
"I don't think we can always prevent horrible things from happening, do you?" she asked. "Sometimes people just decide the risk is worth it." She paused, "I remember being ever so sad after my mother died, but I think the thrill of discovery was worth it for her. And fighting now is worth it to me."
Neville let a comfortable silence fill the room as Luna finished.
"I'm scared," he admitted, remembering his parents lying confused in St. Mungo's, and thinking of the students who would show up and rely on him to teach them to protect themselves.
"So am I," Luna admitted, her voice still light.
"Luna?" Neville asked. She nodded, "You don't sound scared."
"I suppose I'd rather be afraid with my friends than alone," she reasoned.
Neville nodded and then the door started to rearrange.
"I'm glad you're here, Luna," he replied.
He noticed a shock of red hair as Ginny Weasley started to crawl through the door followed by several more students. As they entered, Neville's focus returned to the fight ahead with a renewed fervor.