Reminders: This is NOT a Ron-friendly fic. I own nothing related to HP and make no money. This chapter is not beta'd so please forgive any mistakes. I have almost completed new chapters for Something About Hermione and Of Yule Balls and Kisses. Thank you dear readers for all the love my stories have gotten from you! They are very inspiring to writers!

Neville was feeling decidedly out of place as older Gryffindors milled about the common room greeting each other, laughing, telling stories of summer vacation and – in the Weasley Twins case –conspiring to do evil as soon as possible. Those thoughts aside, Neville could appreciate the numerous plush chairs and couches decked out in ruby red with splashes of gold. They looked comfy but slightly worn giving the accurate impression that countless residents of Godric's House had used them while not abusing them. Yes, it all looked rather weather-worn but there was also the distinct aura of comfort, of solidarity and of home.

So yeah, the common room was beyond cool, so no problem there. No, Neville thought sadly, it was the people he thought might be problematic. See, Neville wasn't so great when it came to people or mingling or chatting confidently and with ease. He was sort of shy and Hermione had told him that he wasn't so much shy as he doubted his ability to come across in a positive light to people, so he tried to avoid doing so as much as possible. She'd murmured about how much she liked his Gran but followed it up with telling him that she was part of that problem too. Neville hadn't been offended because in his mind he began to see the truth of her words once he'd looked back and took notice of certain incidents or events.

Gran had been devastated at the loss of her only son and his wife. When Neville had been handed over to her at just over a year old, she'd been doggedly determined into turning him into a miniature version of his father. Or, at least the version that she chose to remember. In her version, his father had been brave, determined, resilient (he'd been able to protect the Order's secrets even while being driven into madness by the Cruciatus curse) and so Neville was now thrilled to have been Sorted into his parents' House. Gran would be proud and that fact alone, made him feel a smidgen better since gaining her approval was difficult. Unless you were Hermione Dagworth-Granger.

Gran had taken to Hermione from the second their eyes had met. The shrewd, cold calculation in the older woman's' gaze had turned to grudging respect when Hermione refused to be cowed by her silent, heavy stare and imposing presence. One look from his Gran's gimlet gaze was generally enough to send even the most stalwart of wizards fleeing, so when Hermione had stood her ground without flinching, it was a seriously unprecedented event.

For Neville, that moment was etched in his brain and even now when he thought on their first meeting, he was filled with renewed awe at Hermione's fierce boldness. The feelings that whooshed through him at witnessing such a rare event, had not been one of envy, but of stunned disbelief that this completely unknown little girl was staring down his Gran with no sign of fear whatsoever.

When she'd turned her lovely face toward him, grey-blue eyes softening, following a few seconds later with an incandescent smile that broke over her features, Neville felt his breath catch in his throat. He was now the sole focus of Miss Dagworth-Granger's attention. He should have felt embarrassed or exposed or nervous or freaked out, but he hadn't. He'd felt… accepted. Embraced. Loved.

From then on, Hermione had been his friend… his best friend… his only friend really until Harry had stumbled into their compartment on the Express. Now, here he was in this amazing Common room unable to really enjoy it since his two friends were sitting in a different Common room. Glancing around again, Neville noted that he wasn't the only First Year seeming out of place. A dark-skinned boy stood off in one of the corners casting furtive glances around the room.

If Neville recalled correctly, the kids name was Dean. Well, perhaps he should pull himself up by his dragon-skinned boot-straps and head over that way. Before the all-consuming dread of meeting someone new set in, Neville forced his feet forward until he was standing just off to the side of the other bloke. Great. He was here. His hands, suddenly damp with perspiration, nervously knotted themselves in the side folds of his new Gryffindor robes. He was discovering just how scary this was without Hermione by his side offering support.

Gulping down an egg-sized lump in his throat, Neville said, voice squeaking, "Hi. My names Neville Longbottom. What's yours?"

The other boys head spun toward him, dark eyes focused on Neville, a flicker of fear flashing in their deep depths. "Hi," he said tentatively. "Um, my names Dean. Dean Thomas. Nice to meet you."

Neville felt tons better at knowing there was someone other than himself who was anxious and unsure. "It's all a bit frightening, isn't it," Neville ventured to ask.

"Yeah," Dean agreed with a frown. "All of this magic stuff is new to me."

"Muggle-born," Neville surmised.

Shrugging, Dean answered truthfully, "I'm not sure. My biological dad left when I was real young, but I know for certain that my Mum isn't magical at all. She thinks maybe, I get the magic part from him, but I suppose we'll never know for sure. Got no idea where he might be."

Neville wracked his brain for the right thing to say. He was really no good at this. At all. He could emulate proper Wizarding manners but here, with Dean who was Muggle-born, he was at a loss. Then an incident with Hermione and her Squib uncle and Muggle aunt came back to him. Hermione had taken him on a rare trip into the Muggle World to meet her family.

When introduced to her aunt and uncle, Neville hadn't been sure of the proper form of greeting, so he'd bowed and held out his hand. For a second, Hermione just gawked at him before hitting up-side the head saying, "Just shake hands, for heaven's sake. They're just people, Neville."

He'd sputtered an apology while shaking the older man's hand, who good-naturedly informed him that it was just fine and that he was always welcome in their home. After that, Helen had told him that it was nice to meet someone with actual manners, while glaring at Hermione for her treatment of her magical friend. Apparently, Hermione, while well-versed in the Pure-blood customs and manners, didn't exercise those talents while at home as often as her aunt would have liked.

It was a nice thought, not having to be so prim and proper all the time, Neville had thought longingly. Perhaps he needed to spend more time with Hermione's relatives in order to learn the logistics of mixing and mingling with non-magicals. Gran had spent an awful lot of time these last few years brushing up on Hermione's knowledge of proper etiquette for those of high-born stature, so he would ask her to return the favor so that he could absorb all the wonders and lessons the Muggle world had to offer.

Surely he could pass it off to his Nan as an educational endeavor. She was always pushing him to work harder on his studies so as to make sure the he became as well educated as his father. Neville failed to see how learning more about Muggles and their ways wouldn't be just as educational. After all, Hermione had been raised in the environment and Neville had been especially drawn to that contraption known as a telly. It was fascinating that a box had people inside, shrunk down to size to fit its parameters. The 'shows' as Hermione had called them, were fascinating too.

Decision made, Neville stuck out his hand saying, "It's nice to meet you, Dean. Can I call you Dean or should I use your surname since we don't know each other that well yet?"

Dean seemed confused by the question, but took Neville's hand and said, "Dean's fine. Is that some kind of weird Wizarding thing? Calling people by their surnames, I mean."

"Well," Neville began. "It's the custom until one is better acquainted and placed on a more intimate footing. That need not be the case, of course, but it's been drilled into my noggin since I could walk. But, if you're okay with it, that's great. Please call me, Neville."

Grinning, Dean replied, "Cool. Thanks for making me feel welcome." Neville felt a warmth bloom in his chest at the compliment. "I was wondering if I should run back to the boats and go home until you came over, but now that I have a new friend, I think I'll stay."

Neville couldn't stop grinning. He probably looked like a crazy loon, but he was just so thrilled to have made a new friend. A friend! By himself! Without Hermione egging him on with encouraging nudges and whispers. This was the best thing to happen to him since meeting Hermione or getting his own brand new wand! Yes, things were looking up for Neville Longbottom.

"Hey," Dean whispered conspiratorially, "that red-headed kid you got into a fight with on the train and platform, who is he?"

"When he got announced to come to the Sorting chair, Professor McGonagall called him Ronald Weasley. Now that I've had a chance to really get a good look, it makes sense. All the Weasley's have that color of hair and freckles in excess."

"He sure was a jerk on the train," Dean remarked. "I heard everything he said, and I would have done the same as you if he'd said those things about my friend too."

Giving a snotty sniff worthy of a Malfoy, Neville replied with a sneer, "Clearly, he was raised without the benefit of good manners. If I would ever deign to speak such unsavory things, my Gran would wash my mouth out with a Scourgify charm. Repeatedly."

"It was nasty stuff, for sure," Dean breathed quietly. "Do you think you could introduce me to the girl? The one that Weasley clod was saying all those things about."

"Why," Neville asked, suspicious. Hermione was his to protect.

Shrugging, the other boy said casually, "She's beautiful. I would really like to sketch her, if she'd let me."

"You draw?" Neville found himself interested.

"A bit," Dean admitted with a shy smile. "Course I'm just a beginner, but I've been drawing something or other ever since I could hold a pencil. Least ways, that's what my Mum says."

"Did you bring any of your drawings with you," Neville inquired, his sincere curiosity brought Dean a bit further out of his shell.

"I did actually," the other boy replied, an enthusiastic grin breaking free. "Would you like to see them?"

"Oh, yes," Neville breathed excitedly. "Would you, by chance, look at some drawings that I've made of various plants?"

"You draw too," Dean exclaimed, thrilled to find someone with similar hobbies.

Flushing, Neville replied in a modest manner, "Sort of. I tend to try to capture plants and flowers. Hermione gifted me with a small book of parchment along with writing implements of color so that I can be detailed in my drawings."

"Hermione," Dean parroted. "Is that the silvery-haired girl?"

"Yeah," Neville corroborated, face coming alive at the mention of her name. "She's my best friend."

"What about the other bloke?" At Neville's obvious confusion, Dean elaborated. "The kid with the black, messy hair and glasses. The one that ended up in Slytherin with your friend."

"Oh," Neville gave a small giggle. "That's Harry. Harry Potter." Seeing no recognition from Dean, Neville went on to say, "He's basically considered a Hero of the Wizarding World."

"That skinny kid?!"

Neville nearly laughed out loud at Dean's incredulous exclamation. "It's a long story, Dean, and most of it is probably a bunch of hogwash. You'll hear all sorts of things, there's even been these really awful books written about him and his supposed exploits."

"Seriously?" Dean gaped.

"Seriously. It's ridiculous, I know, but there are a lot people who will probably want to get close to him just because, in their eyes, he is some sort of hero. Idiots like that Weasley twat." Neville indicated the twat in question with a slight jerk of his head.

Dean's eyes once more focused on the kid with a shock of garish-orange hair, sporting two spectacular black rings round his blue eyes. Before Dean could comment further, two girls hurried over to them. One appeared to be Indian with pretty, liquid black eyes. The other girl was also pretty but she was pale-skinned with dark-blonde curls and deep blue eyes. Neville tried not to look as scared as he felt. Other than Hermione and a few older women, he had no real experience with girls and how to talk to them.

"It's true, isn't it," the blond girl breathed excitedly. "It was you who gave Ron Weasley a sound beating, wasn't it?!"

"Um… uh…" Neville was so out of his element. This girl was staring at him intently, admiration shining on her face. Admiration for him. Him!

Before he could embarrass himself further, Dean flung an arm over his shoulders stating brightly, "You betcha! This is him! My good friend, Neville Longbottom whooped the tar outta that git. By the way, I'm Dean Thomas."

"Hi," both girls said with bright smiles.

"I'm Lavender Brown," the blond girl said. "And this is my friend, Parvati Patil." Turning her gaze once more fully onto Neville, she gushed, "You were so brave. The way you defended that girls' honor. It was right out of a romance novel!"

Red-faced but pleased, Neville remarked with a small grin, "I was brought up to always make sure that ladies are treated kindly and with respect."

As if speaking of his upbringing reminded if of it, Neville took Lavender's hand, bowing over it and saying, "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Brown." Neville took the other girls hand and greeted her in the same manner. The young witches practically swooned.

The amount of hero-worship coming from the girls was mind-boggling to Neville. To his way of thinking, he hadn't done anything special. Some idiot clod had gone about insulting someone he loved, and he wasn't going to stand for that, so of course he'd done something about it. Truthfully, there hadn't been much thinking involved. Weasley's words had put Neville into such a rage, that he reacted without considering the consequences. His only thought had been… Protect Hermione.

Fluttering her lashes, Lavender proclaimed sweetly, "You're a real hero, Neville. Did the lady in question properly reward you?"

Properly reward? Neville wondered what in the world that meant. Had Hermione given him a real earful for fighting? Yep. Had she informed him that she could fight her own battles? Yep. Had she drilled into him that if he ever did something so stupid again she would make sure he couldn't sit down for a week from all the stinging hexes he'd be getting from her? She sure did. So, Neville was a bit confused by Lavender's question until she leaned forward, thoroughly kissing him on the cheek.

"There," she said, sounding satisfied. "Now you have been" Sidling closer to Neville she asked hopefully, "If I run into difficulties, can I count on you to take care of me?"

Jumping into the conversation, Dean assured the girl with the statement of, "Sure you can. We both will."

"Oh, thank you," Lavender's brown-skinned companion interjected, eyeing Dean with interest. "What of you, Dean? If trouble should befall me, would you come to my rescue such as dear, brave Neville would?"

Looking a tad flustered, but greatly pleased, Dean proclaimed sincerely, "Do not doubt it for a moment, Miss Patil."

"Oh, no," Parvati cried. "None of this Miss business! I invite you to use my given name. After-all, I do intend for us to be the closest of friends."

Now it was Dean's turn to blush. "Thank you very much, Parvati."

A commotion across the room drew all four sets of eyes. It looked as if several older years were off in a huddle and Ron Weasley was putting up a fuss because he was being excluded from the group.

"Shove off, Ronnikins," one of the Twins ordered.

"Yeah," the other Twin chimed in, giving his younger brother a slight push. "Move it."

"You know what Mum said," Ron argued, face broken out in scarlet splotches. "She said you're supposed to take care of me! Let me hang around you guys and introduce me to other Gryffindors!"

Leaning in until he was nose-to-nose with Ron, one of his older brothers' declared, sounding mighty scary, "Mum isn't here, is she? If I were you, I'd remember that fact because I'm going to take a wild guess that she wouldn't be too pleased to hear about the incident on the Express and the platform."

The other Twin leaned in close too, causing Ron to pull back slightly. "Bad enough that you insulted Hermione Dagworth-Granger – whose parents were friends with ours – but then you went and got into a physical skirmish with Heir Longbottom whose Grandmother could very well get Dad booted from the Ministry because of your foolishness."

Ron paled. They already lived on tight purse-strings. If Dad lost his job because of him? Well, Mum would have his hide and then some! "I'm gonna apologize," Ron grunted sullenly.

"You'd better!" Percy instructed, sternly. "Otherwise, not only will Mum be informed of your disgraceful antics, but I will look the other way when George and Fred decide to come at you with whatever 'jokes' they plan on showering down on your reckless head."

Rubbing their hands together gleefully, the Twins announced simultaneously, "We've got a beaut lined up!"

Now, Ron looked terrified, and both Dean and Neville chuckled, thinking they were going to have make fast friends of the Weasley Twins for sure. Percy appeared okay, if not a bit stiff, but Neville could admire a person who took their duties seriously. How those three ended up with a brother as loathsome as Ronald Weasley was beyond Neville's reckoning. Still, one couldn't choose ones family as that old saying goes.

Grabbing his brother by the arm, Percy began to pull him over to where Dean and Neville stood with the girls, saying to him with a slight bow, "Good day to you, Heir Longbottom. I am most pleased to welcome you to Gryffindor where the brave of heart dwell."

Yeah, Neville thought, definitely stiff. He was polite though and was using some of the Noble customs, so Neville answered in kind. "I thank you Prefect Weasley for your welcome to this noble House of Godric Gryffindor. I wish you and your family good fortune." Well, most of your family, Neville thought but did not say.

Jerking the reluctant red-head forward, Percy nodded saying politely, "And to your Noble family and all who reside in its House, as well. This cretin," Percy went on to say, inclining his head at a fuming Ron, "has come to make restitution for his unconscionable behavior."

"What?!" Ron squawked. "Restitution? I'm no…"

Percy hit him with a Silencio before he could say another damning word. "I apologize again, Heir Longbottom, for my brothers' oafish behavior. Sadly, he has been indulged for being one of the youngest by our family. It is to my great regret that he has not been raised with better manners."

Putting on his best Heir Longbottom face and mannerisms, Neville remarked in cultured disdain, "Pray do not apologize on his behalf, Prefect Weasley. I would rather a sincere expression of remorse versus a forced one. If the raccoon in your grasp finds himself unable to do so, then I would appreciate not having to endure his falseness."

Dean's head swiveled between them. He was trying to figure out this sudden change in his new friend. Where was the friendly, unassuming bloke he was just speaking to? This transformation from that to this attitude of aloof aristocrat was unexpected and kinda odd. Neville an heir? An heir of what? Was this some sort of Pure-blood thing which he was ignorant of?

Percy flushed in embarrassment. Ron's face was red too, but clearly not from the same emotion as his older brothers'. "I understand your hesitation, Heir Longbottom. My unfortunate brother will see reason soon, I am sure. Until then, please accept the apologies of the Weasley family, as my parents would wish for me to do on their behalf."

"Of course," Neville murmured after a brief spell of silence, giving a brief nod, a clear signal that their dealings together had come to an end.

Percy dragged Ron after him by the collar of his robes, the younger wizard tripping awkwardly over his feet. Although the Silencio was still in place, it was clear that he was running off at the mouth to a disgusting degree shooting glares back at Neville as he did so.

"Prefect Weasley," Neville called out, garnering the entire Common Rooms' attention with the volume of his voice. "When Restitution does finally come, I will expect it to be delivered in the Great Hall amongst the entire population of Hogwarts to Lady Dagworth-Granger."

Ron broke out into another bout of, mercifully silent, virulent ramblings while Percy gave a short bend of his neck in understanding and approval at Neville's 'suggestion'. After correctly reading the lips of the acid nonsense Ron was spewing – which would have been better reserved for the denizens of Knockturn Alley – Percy back-handed his brother across the face with a force that threw the younger boys' head swinging wildly, shocking him into stunned silence. The rooms occupants seemed to hold their collective breath at the action, wondering what drama would be happening in response. Seconds passed, although to those who were witnesses, it appeared endless. Then, Ron finally ripped himself away from Percy's grasp, dashing to the stairs which led to the Boys' Dormitory.

"Oh my," whispered Lavender. "What an uncouth individual. Do you think he will eventually offer Restitution? He's seems so bent on being contrary to his family's wishes."

"He will if he knows what's good for him," Neville responded, sounding dire indeed.

"Restitution." Dean asked, much like Harry had done. The girls took to explaining the concept to the clueless boy. After the explanations had been completed, Dean said, "I see. Well, what happens if he doesn't do this Restitution thing?"

"He will," Parvati informed him with great assurance. "Otherwise it will be a great stain on the honor of himself and his family by association. They would not be welcome in polite society and while Mister Weasley would maintain his job at the Ministry, he would not be able to advance or earn a proper wage. The future prospects of his siblings would be in jeopardy as well."

"Wow," Dean muttered in clear wonder. "I am really glad you and I are friends, Neville. Otherwise, I'd be scared silly of you."

Neville's Pure-blood Lordship persona melted way into a warm, bashful smile. "No worries, Dean. I doubt that you would ever insult Hermione."

"You're very close with her even though she's been Sorted into Slytherin," Lavender asked, looking unsettled.

Without missing a beat, Neville stated firmly, "Of course! Nothing will ever come between me and Hermione! We'd discussed it on the Express – she, Harry, and I – should we get Sorted into differing Houses, we'd remain friends."

"That's very civil of you," Parvati said in approval. "I wish that others thought the same. My sister was Sorted into Ravenclaw and although it isn't the rival House to Gryffindor as Slytherin is, I wouldn't let House politics push us apart from each other for anything in the world."

Suddenly, Neville fell back into his shy, unassuming ways now that the Weasley business had been taken care of. "Well, I … uh… thinks that's wonderful, Parvati. There's nothing so important than our true friends and family."

Tired of being ignored, Lavender took a bold step by slipping her hand through the crook of Neville's arm, pressing lightly, and said, "I think that Neville is absolutely marvelous." Not interested in discussing House issues, she went on to say, "He's as brave and honorable as a lion should be. I stake my claim here and now as his close, personal confidante in this House of majestic creatures in which he emulates perfectly the qualities of the Lion."

"Lavender," Parvati hissed, equally shocked and mortified that her friend would make such a declaration on such short of an acquaintance and without assuring Neville's permission first!

Again, Dean was at a loss, but obviously something was not right. Neville had gone quite rigid, blanching to the point that Dean thought his friend might collapse on the spot. Dean gripped Neville's should firmly, just in case the poor bloke should sway where he stood, or worse.

Neville was astonished into silence. Lavender's claim was quite unexpected and he had no doubt that both his Gran and Hermione would be furious. One simply did not make this sort of claim after mere minutes of knowing one another and as a Pure-blood, Lavender should know this. Once more, Neville fell into his usual way of timidity and uncertainty. How he wished that Hermione was here to rescue him.

In his head, he heard her remonstrating him as clearly as if she were standing at his side. It helped to bolster him since Hermione's words to him have always been sagacious even at the tender age of eleven almost twelve. Wise beyond her years, was his Hermione. With her whispered encouragement echoing in his ear, Neville straightened his shoulders, before turning toward Lavender who was looking at him through the thick fall of her lashes.

Gently disengaging her hand from his arm, Neville commented politely, "I'm sure you misunderstand our ways, Miss Brown." Lavender frowned at the formality. "Such an alliance must be discussed between Heads of Houses – in your case, Head of Household – and terms and conditions agreed upon before any such finalization is made in word or deed."

Flushing a wild-rose, Lavender took half a step back, finally realizing her faux-pas. "I do apologize Heir Longbottom. I did not mean to presume."

Gallantly, Neville rescued her from complete humiliation by saying congenially, "Think nothing of it. It's a common enough mistake. Let's leave all family House business aside and become friends in this House of Godric instead."

"Jolly good idea, Nev!" Dean agreed, delivering a sound clap to his friends' shoulder.

"Yes," Parvati agreed, releasing a stream of relieved breaths. "Lets."

"Okay," Lavender replied, smiling once more. "Would you like to play Exploding Snap?"

Grinning widely, Neville said, "That would be great, but can it wait until tomorrow? I'm kinda tired and it looks as if Prefect Weasley is gathering everyone to go to their dorms."

Percy was indeed shooing the younger year boys toward the stairs leading to their dorms while an older female Prefect was doing the same to the girls.

"Come along," she called to Lavender and Parvati, waving her hand impatiently. "You must unpack your trunks before getting ready for bed."

Parvati and Lavender made sure to set up a time for the next day for the four of them to get together to play Exploding Snap before following the Prefects orders, glancing behind at the two boys as they climbed the stairs.

"Well, now," Dean said with a wide smile, flashing a set of pearly white teeth, "Here I was thinking I might not fit in, or like it here, and now I've got a new best mate and two pretty girls to get to know better. You're gonna have to help me, Nev so I don't make too many mistakes like the one Lavender did. I sure don't want to accidentally offend anyone."

"I wouldn't worry too much in that score." Neville replied, making his way to the steps leading to the boys' dorm. "As a Muggle-born, you won't be expected to get all the ins-and-outs of Pure-blood customs and honestly, for the most part they're dreary and over-complicated. I don't plan on using them while I'm here unless I have to."

"Lavender and Parvati are Pure-bloods then," Dean asked.

"Yeah," Neville confirmed. "Although, they're not one of the Noble Houses, they should have still been taught the dos and dont's of proper Noble etiquette."

Snapping his fingers, Dean exclaimed, "Like that thing Lavender did was a no-no, right?"

"Right. It's all kinda complicated but asking for protection from a Noble House is a huge deal and well, normally the Head of the Noble House would discuss it with - in Lavender's case, her Father, since he's the Head of their Household – the terms and conditions of such an alliance." Taking in Dean's confused expression, Neville laughed. "Yeah, I know, it's right ridiculous in most cases and more often than not, a real pain in the arse. Hermione calls it Noblesse Nonsence." Shrugging, he added, "But what ya gonna do? It's the way it is in the Wizarding World."

"It sounds somewhat similar to the Monarchy," Dean said, chewing on his lower lip. "There are nobles in the Muggle-world too but the chances of me getting to rub elbows with the Queen and her sort, are slim to none."

"I'm not one to stand on ceremony," Neville admitted candidly. "Like I said, I only pull on the Heir Longbottom cloak when I have to. So, just think of me as nothing more than regular, old Neville. I prefer it when I'm with my mates."

Relieved at not having to treat his new friend as anything other than his new friend, Dean said, "Okay doke, mate." Throwing his arm over Neville's shoulder again, Dean added, "The only thing that's gonna ruin our good time is having to share a dorm with that arse-wipe, Weasley."

Rolling his eyes, Neville commented evenly, "Ignore him, Dean. He's a prat, for sure and if he doesn't shape up, he'll be the ruin of his House too. I think we'll just leave him to the Twins. Of course, if he creates problems with us, then we'll be honor-bound to defend our rights and our name. But, if he's smart, he'll avoid us after he's made Restitution, of course."

Suddenly, Dean yelled, "Race you to the dorm!" Taking off, feet flying over the flagstone floor.

Taken off guard, Neville hesitated a moment before taking off himself, shouting down the corridor, "Cheaters never prosper, Dean Thomas!"

Seconds later, he burst through the doorway of the dorm, throwing himself onto the bed next to Dean who was breathing as heavily as he was. "You prat!" Neville exclaimed, playfully punching his friend in the side.

Dark eyes lit up with laughter, Dean shoved his shoulder into Neville's saying in a teasing manner, "Not my fault, that you're slow on your feet. I'm gonna have to introduce you to the joys of jogging!"

Neville, who had no clue what 'jogging' was, laughed uproariously. "I don't know what that is," Neville claimed between gasping breaths. "But it sounds painful."

"Oh, it is," Dean confirmed giggling uncontrollably.

For some reason, this sent Neville into another bout of laughter. Rolling onto his side Neville thought that even with Hermione in a different House, this was going to be a good year. He'd made a new friend, held himself up proudly and with dignity as Heir Longbottom to the Weasley's' and had an Exploding Snap 'date' with two of the prettiest girls in his House.

Both boys were so engrossed in their mock wrestling match, that they never noticed Ron Weasley, settled on the bed farthest from where they were playing. He eyed both boys rolling around on the bed with contemptuous hatred. First that stuck-up cow on the train stole Harry Potter from him and now that high-born fat kid was gonna be one of his dorm-mates. Ron could hardly stand it! Then, there was Percy. His own brother had hit him! Percy could be a right prick, but this was the limit! And then, to demand that Ron make Retribution to that Slytherin bitch! As if!

Still, Ron knew that Percy wasn't above telling on him to their parents. While they didn't hold to most Pure-blood snobbish rules and idiotic ways, with his dad's livelihood in possible jeopardy, they would pull out and dust off them off if it meant the difference between employment or unemployment. It was all that snotty, silvery-haired, Slytheirn-loving Snake! Not only that, but she was related to the mini-Death-eater, Malfoy!

How the hell had Harry Potter ended up in the same House as that ferret-faced berk? Everyone knew that Potter had been destined for Gryffindor! It made Ron wonder it the Sorting Hat had been Confundused! It seemed like something that could have happened and Hermione Dagworth-Granger looked enough like a Siren or Veela to be able to confuse the Hat. It had to have been her doing! That bitch was trying to turn Harry Potter from the Path of Light! And, if she thought Ronald Weasley was just going to sit by and let it happen, she was just plain barmy. He was going to rescue The-Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World from the vile clutches of that witch if it was the last thing he did!