Sorry, Zoe, I hate to disappoint you, but there are no vicious badgers in this chapter. No toads either, but I hope you like it anyway. Are people losing interest in this story? Because I got twelve reviews for Chapter 3, and only four for Chapter 4. Please, don't give up on it! And even if you do, at least review and tell me why. Please?! Thanks to all of the people who have reviewed so far!


A Quest for Love: Chapter 5

At the first hint of daylight the next morning, I was awake. Without even allowing myself time for a yawn or a quick shower, I grabbed the papers that I had ransacked from Neville's room. I quickly shuffled through them: an old birthday card, a couple of letters, and a book. Sadly, there was no diary.

I opened the card first. It was almost a year old, and covered with dust. The handwriting was that of an old lady, perhaps, small, spidery, and hard to read.

Dear Neville,

I hope that you have a nice birthday at your school. My present to you this year is another Remembrall, since I know that you lost the last. Fortunately, they are not very expensive, or I would have gone bankrupt by now. The best wish that I can give you for the upcoming year is that you may be more responsible, and that you shall improve in your studies. And always remember that you are representing out family at your school, and try not to disgrace us.

Sincerely,

Your Grandmother


I must admit that after reading this letter, I felt more sorry for Neville than I ever had before. No wonder he was so meek, so pitiful, after being traumatised all of his life by a grandmother like that!

I reached for the book. "Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean," I read aloud. I could feel my eyes widening in shock. I had been searching for this book for the past three years! Herbology was my hobby. It was the only part of my personality that did't exactly fit in with my reputation. I know, as a Slytherin a more fitting pastime would have been torturing defenseless animals. Well, I did that sometimes too. But I couldn't help it. I just loved plants. At home I had a wonderful garden, all my own, with beautiful flowers and fascinating magical plants. The only thing that it was lacking was a pond, where the water plants could live. I would have had one put in right away, but I could find very little information on plants that live under water. My father casually mentioned the book one day, and I knew right away that it was the book that I needed. The only problem was where to find it.

I set the book on my bedstand. I was sure that Neville wouldn't mind me borrowing it.

I turned back to the small stack of papers on my bed. Finally, I had come to the letters. I reached for one, but I was surprised to see that there was no address, or even a name on the envelope. My curiousity grew. I hastily slit open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Dear Mother,

Merry Christmas! I hope that you had a wonderful holiday. Did you get a lot of nice presents? I wish you could have been here, but I am sure that you were happy where you are.

My grades are improving. Aren't you happy? Guess what? I got a 95% on my Herbology test! That was the best in the class, besides Hermione Granger, of course. I've told you about her, right?

There was a dance last weekend. The Yule Ball, to be precise. Was there a Triwizard Tournament when you were at Hogwarts? Did you go to the Yule Ball with Dad? I went with this girl named Ginny Weasely. You are friends with the Weaselys, aren't you? She was really nice, even though she is in the year below me.

I hope I can see you soon. I love you, and please give my love to Dad.

Your son,

Neville Longbottom


That was the end of the letter. But as I peered closer, I could see that there were smudges on the paper, as if water had been dropped there. Or perhaps tears? But why would a boy cry while writing a cheerful letter to his mother? I dismissed the thought; that would have been ridiculous.

The more pressing question was why Neville still had this letter, and why the envelope had not been addressed to anyone. But that could be explained rationally. Most likely, he had decided that he didn't like the letter, and chosen not to send it. After all, that could happen to anyone.

I had just reached out to pick up the second letter when I heard the door swing open, and Pansy came flying through. I quickly stashed the papers under my pillow.

When Pansy saw me, her smug grin changed immediately to a pitying expression. "Oh, Millicent, I'm so sorry!" she cried out.

I frowned. "What the hell are you talking about, Pansy?" I hate being pitied.

"You mean you haven't heard?" she asked gleefully. Pansy always loved to be the first one to tell bad news.

"Obviously not." I said a bit huffily.

"Gregory Goyle is madly in love with me! Wait, don't get mad," she said, holding her hands out in front of her protectively. She had obviously mistaken my disgusted grimace for a jealous glare. "I didn't encourage him or anything, really I didn't. It's not my fault that he suddenly came up to me and tried to kiss me. I wasn't trying to make Draco jealous, I promise!"

"Yeah right. Don't lie to me, Pansy; you are so transparent it's not even funny. I never gave a damn about Goyle, and I honestly don't care if he is infatuated with you. But don't try to make me think that he did it of his own will. You were trying to make Draco jealous."

"No-no, I wasn't," Pansy stammered.

"Yes you were. Don't think that you can hide it from me, Pansy."

By now, Pansy looked terrified. She clasped her hands in front of her. For a moment I was even afraid that she was going to kneel on the floor and kiss my feet. "Millicent, please, please don't tell Draco! I don't think I could bear it if he knew. I would die rather than have him find out about it. Listen, I'll help you get Goyle back. I admit it, I gave him a love potion. But it was pretty weak--if we make you look really pretty, then he should fall in love with you instead."

I started to back away. I am sure that my face looked as terrified then as hers had two minutes ago. I could tell that Pansy was getting into her make-over mode. And once she was in that mode, there was nothing that anyone could do about it except sit there and grit their teeth. If you tried to get out of it, she would curse your face off.

"Um, Pansy, I don't think that that would be a good idea," I said weakly.

"What are you talking about? It's brilliant! Come on, what color eyeshadow do you want?" I groaned, but she took no notice. "Now I think that purple would be your best bet. It would really bring out your eyes. You have lovely eyes, Millicent, you just need to show them off a bit more. Ah, yes, I have the perfect lipstick for you! It's called Luscious Rose . . ."

For the next three hours I was powdered and painted until it felt like their couldn't possibly be any more of my original skin left showing. My eyebrows were tweezed, my lashes were curled and lengthened, my hair was in tight ringlets, and my cheeks had round, red circles that stood out a mile away. I wanted to hide in a dark, lonely closet. Unfortunately, Pansy had other plans.

"Come on, Millicent, we have to show you off!" she giggled. "Let's go out to the common room." She grabbed my hand, and dragged me down the stairs with amazing force.

As we made our grand entrance, every head in the room turned to look at me. As Crabbe and Goyle caught sight of me, their jaws dropped simultaneously. I could feel my cheeks grow hot underneath the pasty layers of makeup. As soon as I reached the bottom, both Crabbe and Goyle rushed to my side.

"Wow, Millicent, you look really great," Crabbe said stupidly.

Goyle grunted in assent.

For once, Crabbe appeared to be thinking. He was twisting his hands nervously together, his brow knitted in concentration. "Um, Millicent, I was thinking, sometime when we go to Hogsmeade, would you want to come with me?" He asked akwardly.

"Huh? Hey, wait a minute!" Goyle cut in, once Crabbe's offer had sunk into his brain. "Millicent wants to go with me!"

"Really?" Crabbe inquired. "She never told me . . . I think that you are just making it up. She likes me better!"

"No, she said that she likes me better!"

Although this conversation was just the confidence-booster that I needed, I felt that it had better come to an end before one of them decided that we had had sex. So just as Goyle was about to shoot back some biting remark, I interrupted. "Thanks, guys, but I think that I would rather go alone." And with that, I marched out of the common room, determined to show Neville my new look before I lost my courage.

My courage held up as I walked fearlessly across the school. It was only as I got to the Fat Lady's portrait that I started shaking with nerves. Not only did my future love life depend on this visit, but Slytherin's honor! I just couldn't stand it if I went in there and made a fool out of myself. But then, Slytherins weren't supposed to be nervous, much less care what a Gryffindor might think. 'Get a grip on yourself!' I thought, shocked at my feeling of vulnerability. 'Honestly, if you can't take this, then you ought to have been placed in Hufflepuff!' I gave another small shudder, but this time it was of horror ar the thought of me in Hufflepuff, and not out of fear. I smiled to myself. Much better.

"Pumpkin juice," I told the Fat Lady resolutely, and once again the portrait hole swung open to admit me.

Inside, the room was full of students. Some were gathered around the fire, some playing Exploding Snap, and some just hung together in small groups and chattted. Characteristically, Hermione was huddled in a corner, cradling an immense book in her lap. I could even spy Neville, curled up in a chair. He looked as if he was going to start snoring any minute.

It took a minute before heads twisted to look at me. I think it was Hermione Granger who spotted me first. She had just looked up to check the time, when her eyes fell on me, and she let out a small gasp. Less than a second later, both Potter and Weasley had turned to catch a glimpse of me too. Soon, the whole room had fallen silent. Even Neville was sitting straight up in his chair, staring at me with terrified eyes.

I walked slowly over to him, swaying my hips gently as I moved. "Hi, Neville," I crooned, just as Pansy had taught me. I batted my eyelashes seductively.

To my surprise, Neville let out a little yelp and dove from his chair straight under the nearest table, where he sat whimpering like a hurt puppy.

As if that wasn't enough, I heard stifled giggles coming fromt he opposite end of the room. I growled softly, and began to walk over to the foolish girls. Forget the hips. I was pissed off, and it wasn't a good idea to giggle when I was mad. Most people knew this, but then, what else could you expect of a Gryffindor?

I reached the culprits, two girls curled up in the window seat, with pillows stuffed over their mouths to muffle their laughter. They looked about my age, and seemed vaguely familiar . . . I groped about in the back of my mind for a minute before I could remember their names. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown! Needless to say, they stopped their cackling when I came over.

"What's so funny?" I asked quietly.

"Well, your make-up . . ." Lavender gasped.

"And that lipstick . . . did anyone ever teach you to apply it?" Parvati interrupted, giving me a superior smile. The two Gryffindors exchanged an amused look, before erupting into another helpless fit of laughter.

I wanted to pick them up then and there and throw them out of the window. But experience had taught me that it is always best to look first before you act. I glanced quickly around me. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas were standing next to the two tittering girls like bodyguards, with there fists clenched. Okay, I could take on them both--they wouldn't be much of an obstacle. But behind them stood Potter and Weasely, and behind them stood the Weasely twins, who were a year above me. Neville was still cowering under the table. I sighed. So long to my fantasies of Lavender and Parvati smashed on the ground four floors below me. I would have to settle for glaring at them. Somehow, glaring didn't seem as satisfying to my anger as seeing their faces smashed on the ground would have been.

Parvati was the first of the two to regain her presence of mind. "Really, Millicent, what did you do to yourself?" she asked, with a small snicker.

"Nothing," I muttered.

Now Parvati started to smile. "You know what you need?"

I tried not to notice the look on her face. "No."

Her smile widened. Now she looked exactly like Pansy had when she was in her makeover mode. I turned to Lavender, praying that she would get her friend out of here before it was too late. Not a chance. Her face mirrored Parvati's, right down to the impish grin.

"You need a make-over!" they chorused happily.

"Come on, we know exactly what to do!" Lavender squealed, grabbing my arm and attempting to pull me to the girl's room.

I wrenched my arm away from her. Pansy may be able to get me to do what she wants, sometimes, but no little Gryffindor slut will ever order me around.

"You are not going to do a make-over on me, okay?" I hissed. "I am not your new doll. Got that?" Parvati and Lavender nodded, backing slowly away from me. They looked ready to run as soon as I took a step towards them.

But I didn't. Instead, I walked towards the portrait hole, seething with unleashed anger. How dare they make fun of me? They would be sorry, I resolved. I would make those lowly Gryffindors rue the day that they had decided mock me, a Slytherin.

I climbed out of the portrait hole, and straightened my robes. But just as I turned to go back to the Slytherin common room, I found myself confronted by Hermione Granger. "What are you doing here?" I sneered.

"Um . . . nothing," she said with false brightness. I could see her eyes casting about for a means of escape. "I mean, I was just going to go to the library . . . to study for potions. Right."

I repressed a strong urge to laugh. For a moment there, Hermione Granger, straight A+ student, had reminded me of Neville Longbottom, on the day that I had met him in the corriders after turning my cat into a pickle.

"Really, Hermione," I said, unconsiously using her first name. "What do you want?"

She hesitated for a moment, but then went boldly on. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry . . ." she faltered.

"Sorry?" I said, taken aback.

"You know, for how they treated you, and laughed at you. I hope you didn't mind too much."

I stared at her in shock. She just apologized? But she was a Gryffindor . . . they don't apologise, at least not to Slytherins. But maybe she was better than some of them.

"Hermione?" I could hear Lavender's laughing voice echoing from within the comon room. "Parvati, do you know where Hermione went?'

I could feel my heart harden. She was one of them--for a moment, she had almost taken me in with her apology. "Mudblood, can you honestly think that I would care what a Gryffindor thinks of me?"

Hermione's warm brown eyes hardened, like melted chocolate cooling to a rocky solid. "Well, since I am only a incompetent Gryffindor, you couldn't really expect me to have considered that beforehand, could you? Really, you have to learn to make allowances for those of us who don't possess your positively tremendous brain capacity," she sneered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I took a step back. If I had been shocked when she apologised, I was doubly so now. 'Gryffindors don't sneer!' I thought to myself. But obviously she did. Maybe she wasn't like the others after all. But I couldn't apologise. Slytherins don't apologise.

She sighed. "Listen, Millicent, I didn't come out here to argue with you. What I really wanted to do was ask if you actually wanted a make-over. Because if you do, I could give you one," she said, blushing a little. "It's not the kind of thing that I usually do, but I could understand why you wouldn't want Lavender or Parvati to do it. Last time they tried that on me, I didn't get out of there for over two hours, and I felt like there was more make-up to me than there was skin."

I considered her offer. Really, she didn't seem as bad as the rest of them. I couldn't apologise, according to the unwritten Slytherin code of law, but maybe I could accept her offer. But what would the other Slytherins think?

I was about to reject Hermione's offer, when she interrupted my train of thought. "Why did you want a make-over in the first place?" she asked curiously.

I thought of Neville. This could be my last chance to get him, and it was certain that my last appearance had not exactly impressed him. I needed him to be my boyfriend! The thought caused me to abandon my former reluctance.

"Okay, I'll do it!" I determined. Hermione looked surprised, but willingly led me back up through the portrait hole and to her room.



So, will Millicent be transformed into a supermodel, surpassing in beauty all women that have ever lived? Or will this make-over be a flop just like the other? For all of you Neville-lovers out there (I know, there probably aren't many) I will try to give him a bigger role in the next chapter. Please Review!