Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own Harry Potter. *Sigh*. November 16 better come soon because I'm really excited about seeing the movie, though I will still read the books til the end.



Chapter Six- Celeste



Two months went by, and news about Neville's parents quickly spread, thanks to Malfoy. Neville never spoke to anyone, and after classes, after doing his homework, he pulled the curtains around his bed and stayed there, supposedly crying. He didn't even go on weekend trips to Hogsmeade, the nearby wizarding village anymore.



Snape's bullying of Neville during Potions became worse, and Harry couldn't help but feel furious. Neville had enough problems lately without Snape giving him a hard time. In fact, none of the teachers really noticed this change in Neville, except for Professor Clark and Hagrid...



"He keeps asking Neville if there's something wrong," commented Harry on a weekend trip to Hogsmeade, late in the month of November. He, Ron, and Hermione were in The Three Broomsticks, sipping butterbeers.



"Well, it is nice of him, but I don't know if he can help Neville right now," replied Hermione.



"Snape's not making it any better!" retorted Ron. "Since everybody's heard about Neville's parents, you'd think the man would have a bit more sympathy!"



"Ron, Snape isn't exactly the sympathetic type," said Harry. "Still, what Professor Clark and Hagrid are doing is better than what Snape's doing. At least they're actually trying to make him feel better..."



Ron pounded the table with his fist angrily. "This is all Malfoy's fault!" he snapped. "We'll be lucky if we ever get to talk to Neville again!"



"Give him time," said Hermione, taking a sip of butterbeer. "I'm sure that he'll come around." Then she turned to Harry. "Do you still have that weird feeling that you know Professor Clark?"



"Kind of," admitted Harry.



"How could she seem familiar if you've just met her?" asked Ron.



"I think I might know," said Harry quietly.



"Let's hear it then!" said Ron. He and Hermione leaned in to listen.



"Before I ever knew about Hogwarts, I used to see these strangers in the street that seemed to know me," Harry began. "Of course, later on, I found out that these were witches and wizards in the Muggle world who wanted to see me. I think that maybe Professor Clark was one of those witches and wizards."



"Where do you think you saw her?" asked Hermione.



"It was when I was about seven, I think. I had just finished being beaten up by Dudley and his gang at my old school, and believe me, that was no picnic. Anyway, the supervising teacher took me to the nurse's office, and instead of the usual nurse... there was this woman; she looked quite young to me. She was actually nice to me, which was strange. I guess she felt sorry for me."



"What happened next?" Ron inquired.



"She asked what happened to me, and I said that I was beaten up. I didn't say who did, because if Dudley found out that I told on him.... well you get the idea. Then she said it was good that I didn't fight back because...." He strained his memory, trying to remember. "It was something about a friend that she had, that he fought back to people that hurt him. Sounded really sad about it."



"Did she say what happened to him?" said Hermione.



"She just said he wasn't around anymore. Maybe he died... I dunno, it was none of my business. So then she cleaned up my cuts and sent me back to recess, saying that she was really glad to meet me."



"I don't get it," said Ron. "So some woman was nice to you. What's so weird about that?"



Harry frowned. "You don't get it, do you? You both have families who care about you. My family doesn't even care tuppence about me! In fact... I can't even call them my family because they never acted like it. Every time I came back there hurt because someone at school beat me up, did they care? No! A real family would have. Just because someone is related to you, does not automatically make them your family. Not only that, but other people never showed any sympathy to me in my life. Before I met you guys, I never had any friends because all my classmates were too scared to stand up to Dudley or give him the slightest hint that they liked me! During gym, I was always picked last for teams So basically, someone being nice to me when I got beat up was a very rare moment."



He took a few steadying breaths after he said all this. Then he went on, "And I was too afraid to stand up to the Dursleys, because they made it clear that if I ever made trouble, I'd get flayed to an inch of my life. But I'm not a little boy anymore, and I'm not going to let them push me around because they're bigots. The second I finish my seventh year at Hogwarts next year, I am getting out of that house. If never see those... *those people* ever again, it will be too soon!"



He got up, grabbed his cloak, and left, leaving Ron and Hermione lost for words.



***

When he got back to Hogwarts, he accidently ran into Professor Clark in the corridors.



"Oh, sorry, Professor," Harry apologized.



"It's okay," Professor Clark assured him. "In fact, I want to talk to you."



"Er... all right," said Harry, a bit puzzled.



"You're one of Neville's friends, so I was wondering, because I know he's going through a hard time right now, if there is anything I can do to help him."



"Not unless you can convince Snape to stop bullying him," Harry muttered under his breath. But Professor Clark heard him.



"Why does he bully Neville?" asked Professor Clark.



"Oh, never mind," said Harry quickly. "Hermione says to just give him time and he'll be okay."



"Well, okay," said Professor Clark, a bit of doubt in her tone of voice. Then she asked, "Is there something wrong? You look upset."



"I'm fine," Harry mumbled, walking back to Gryffindor Tower.



***

At the words, "I'm fine," Fiona flinched. Of course she knew Harry wasn't "fine". Every time her first child looked upset and she asked him what was wrong, he always said that he was fine, when he wasn't. He didn't like to open up to anybody very much. Not after he turned fourteen, he didn't...



Fiona shook that thought off, and headed towards Snape's office. Maybe Neville did need some time alone, but that still didn't give Snape the right to bully Neville, especially now.



Be polite, she reminded herself. Everybody in Heaven knew for a fact that Severus Snape was a very unpleasant man. However, everybody also knew the reason why Snape was so bitter nowadays. It was also the same reason why Snape had stopped supporting Voldemort...



Fiona was very uncomfortable about confronting Snape like this, but something had to be done. If this didn't work, she'd have to get some help, and she knew exactly who to get it from...



When she reached Snape's office, she knocked on the door. It opened, and Snape stood in the doorway. He seemed very surprised to see her.



"Oh, hello, Professor Clark," he said. "What are you doing here?"



"I wanted to talk to you about Neville Longbottom," Fiona said politely.



"Oh? Is he causing any catastrophes yet? Well, you'll have to get used to that. Longbottom's a walking disaster."



Fiona frowned ever so slightly, but still remembered her manners. "No, actually, he's a very good student in my class. I wanted to talk to you because I'm concerned about him. You see, I'm sure you've probably heard the news about Neville's parents spreading around the whole school. He's been pretty upset about it..."



"So what do you want me to do about it?" asked Snape in hard tone.



"Well, I've heard that since Neville tends to be a bit accident-prone, you seem to be hard on him a lot. I was just wondering if you could... you know, be more understanding when Neville makes mistakes, because I think it upsets him more these days."



"I treat all my students the same. There aren't any exceptions in my class."



Except for the ones in your House, Fiona was bursting to say. Keeping a steady grip on what was left of her patience, she said, as calmly as humanly possible, "If you could just be a bit more sensitive towards him, Professor..."



"Don't tell me how to do my job, and I won't tell you to do yours," said Snape coldly.



Fiona clenched her fists. Keep calm, she kept telling herself. It was easier said than done. The nerve of this man! Taking a deep breath, she said slowly, "I see. I just thought that you'd be a bit more sympathetic towards a person who has lost their family." She dropped her voice down to a quiet tone as she said the next words, "Especially since you've lost yours."



She turned on her heel and left, not looking back. She headed to her office, furious as she had ever been. Then she stopped dead as she heard Ron and Hermione's voices from somewhere nearby.



"It was still fairly thoughtless of you to ask him that question, Ron."



"I know, I know, you don't have to keep reminding me. Harry is never usually that sensitive about his childhood."



"Well, imagine how he must feel! You hate being poor, but don't you ever stop to think how lucky you are, having a family that actually likes you?"



Fiona felt her anger melt away to concern and dread.



"Maybe when we get back to Gryffindor Tower, we should leave Harry alone til he cools down."



"Good idea. But from now on, please think about what you say to Harry involving his childhood!"



As Ron and Hermione left, Fiona felt her stomach clench. Harry was upset about not having a "family" that cared? She knew for a fact that Harry wanted his parents back, despite the fact that it was impossible. She also knew that Harry didn't hold a vendetta against Muggles or Muggle-borns... but could Harry's hatred of the Dursleys lead to hate of Muggles?



Stop it, Fiona thought furiously. Stop even considering that! He is not your first child. She never told anyone this, but her worst fear was that Harry could end up like her first child. To go through the pain of losing him the way she lost the first boy.... the very memory of what happened was just unbearable.



When Fiona entered her office, she almost jumped. There was someone else in her office. But as soon as she recognized who was there, she calmed herself down.



"Hello, Celeste," she said quietly.



Being an angel in human form, Fiona could naturally see angels when humans couldn't, and that was exactly what Celeste was. In fact, Celeste was a very close friend of Fiona's.



Celeste was an angel with black hair, dark skin, and merry looking eyes. Like Fiona, she was also a guardian angel; Neville's angel, in fact. "Hello, Fiona," she said cheerfully. "I was coming down here to see Neville, to try to cheer him up a bit, and I'd thought I'd drop by to say hello."



"Well, it's good to see you," replied Fiona, sitting down in a chair. "I was going to summon you anyway. Poor Neville. He's so torn up about everyone knowing about his parents. I guess he wasn't ready to tell the others yet."



"No, he wasn't," said Celeste, shaking her head. "Have you found out why Harry is in danger yet?"



"Not really," she said shrugging. "I think it might have something to do with the dementors. You know they're one of Voldemort's many allies."



"Horrible things," muttered Celeste. "I don't know why the Ministry has those beasts in that wizard prison. Not only are they on Voldemort's side, but the innocent people that were thrown into Azkaban had to suffer too. Like Harry's godfather: twelve years in that place has given him that horrid, deadened look."



"He was one of the lucky ones, to have gotten away like that" said Fiona softly. "The other innocent people have found peace with us now, the poor souls." She fell silent.



"I hope you're alright with staying here," said her friend.



"What do you mean? Of course I'm alright staying at this place. Why wouldn't I be? It's wonderful."



"It is a wonderful place. But what is not so wonderful about it is due to the fact that your first child went to this school. Doesn't that bring up memories?"



"Of course it does," Fiona answered, a little curtly. "But I don't need to be at this school to remember what happened."



"Fiona," Celeste said softly, a bit of pity in her voice. "It's in the past. Let it go."



"Let it go?!" she asked incredulously. "How can I let it go? He was my first child. I was supposed to protect him! I know I've found another one to protect, and I do love him with all my soul, but... I don't know how to describe this, but it feels like he's come back to haunt me. Look, he went to this school! He ate in the Great Hall! He walked through these corridors! He attended classes in my room! Not to mention that every time I pass the House he lived in during terms.... and the trophy room..." She trailed off and started shaking all over.



"It was his choice, Fiona," protested Celeste. "He chose his path. You did the best you could... but for some reason, it just didn't get through to the boy."



"That isn't an excuse," she whispered, her voice filled with pain. "I want to know why this happened. He was only a boy! Why do the offspring of the sinners have to pay for their family's mistakes? And why do the innocent often suffer because of that?"



"Hmmm," Celeste paced around the room. "There are many mysteries that we cannot solve, you know that."



Fiona nodded.



"He changed you, your first one did. After what happened, you seemed like a shadow of your former self... until you chose Harry to protect. Sometimes, you still seem like a shadow. I just pray that you can finally pull yourself together and move on from your first boy, for Harry's sake."



There was an awkward silence between them. Then Celeste said, "I guess I'll go to Neville's dormitory and wait there until I can enter his dreams. I'll see you on Christmas Eve, Fiona."



Fiona nodded. Then Celeste passed through the closed door of her office and left. Fiona sat there for a long time after that, lost in her thoughts.



To be continued...



All right, for those of you who are wanting to know the identity of Fiona's first child, the next chapter will end your waiting. So stay tuned, because you do NOT want to miss the next chapter of this fic! I hope you all liked this chapter.



P.S. Regarding how I got the names of Fiona and Celeste: Fiona was the name suggestion of a friend of mine, and Celeste means "heavenly".