Trapped The past of one threatens the future of another.

A Harry Potter Fanfiction by Jou-chan

Disclaimers/Warnings:  I do not own Harry Potter. That credit goes to J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. and whoever else that might fall under. There are some spoilers if you haven't read all four books, though they aren't too important. This story is not a slash, nor will there be any couples.

Notes:  Besides the fact that it's my own personal idea and a few characters are of my own creation, I'm trying to keep all the other characters and events true to the book. So if something here really bothers you when you read, I'd very much like to hear about it. Thanks.

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            Hermione raised her eyebrows, glancing at Ron and Harry as she went to Neville's side. "Neville, what's wrong, what happened?" She asked, concern outlining her voice. Rarely, very rarely, did the round-faced boy ever say such things, and such an outburst from him like this one was quite unexpected.

Neville blinked away any tears that threatened to spill, glaring at the floor. "I wish she'd never come here." He whispered, and his knuckles gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, turning white. "She's already started..."

            Ron, slightly abashed, glanced over at Harry, who was equally bemused. "She's started what?"

            "Perhaps you should explain what happened, Neville." Hermione said soothingly, patting his arm lightly as she tried to calm the boy's nerves.

            Neville exhaled slowly, shaking slightly, and glanced up at the three. "Well… I was  coming back from the library…"

            "Did you see him today?" Pansy Parkinson asked Kiare, excitement dripping from her voice as she looked at the ebony haired girl with shiny eyes.

            Kiare raised her eyebrows, about to put her hands up, as if defending herself, but thought better of it and pulled the sleeves of her robe down over her hands anxiously. "See who?" She repeated, wary of Pansy and her two other giggling friends.

            "Oooh, he's so dreamy!" One of them cried, as she clutched onto Kiare's arm, jumping up and down. Kiare couldn't remember her name, and thought it best just to smile nicely. As nice as she could manage, anyway.

            "He's more than dreamy, Varyne! (Kiare smirked slightly at this. So that was her name, she thought.  Something to remember for the future.) He's really smart and talented!" The other girl Violet sighed, clasping her hands in front of her.

            "Much better looking than Ron!" Pansy interjected, looking pointedly at Kiare as she said this.

            Kiare forced a smile. "I'm sure. So who's the mystery boy?" She asked, hoping they would just spit it out already so she could go to the common room and practice her transfiguration notes. She really needed to work on them.

            The three giggled, looking around to make sure no one was eves dropping, and then Violet whispered, "Draco!"

            "Malfoy!?" Kiare's eyebrows shot up, looking shocked. At the look on their faces, she quickly hid her surprise and forced a little smile. "Oh… of course." Carefully making sure they didn't notice, Kiare crossed her fingers behind her back.

            They giggled again, and began a discussion on his life, his family, his looks, his grades, and Kiare was expecting any moment his mother's aunt's dog's cousin's best friend, who was also, naturally, a Slytherin.

            With a slight roll of her eyes, Kiare glanced to the side, looking for a route of escape. If she was lucky, maybe Malfoy himself would come around the corner, and the three of them could go running to him, screaming for his autograph. Surely the silver haired little imp would get a kick out of that.

            But a distraction did come around the corner, though not the one she had thought of.

            The one and only, Neville Longbottom.

            Kiare smirked slightly, and pulled her wand out of her pocket. For one small, insignificant moment, she hesitated, but her uncle's voice flitting through her head, as well the picture of her parents on the mantelpiece at home drove home. Discreetly pointing it in the blonde's direction, she muttered, "Diffindo!"

            The bag slung over Neville's shoulder suddenly split open, and parchment, quills, and books spilt out of it onto the floor. It looked as though a bottle of ink smashed as well, as there was a small black puddle forming on the stone floor. Neville frowned and sighed, and crouched down to pick it all up.

            Pansy and her friends had seen this little accident and burst out laughing, taunting the Gryffindor as he scrambled to pick up his things and leave quickly. But as he noticed Kiare standing there, smirking at him, he stopped and surprisingly clenched his fists. "You!"

            Kiare raised her eyebrows, well aware that a few students had stopped, watching the scene before them. "Hello Neville. Having problems?" She asked coolly, crossing her arms. Her robe was safely tucked away in her pockets, as if it had been there the whole time.

            "You did it! I know you did!" He cried, his voice cracking slightly. His hand dove into his robe, fumbling for a moment before he pulled out his wand.

            "STOP RIGHT THERE, LONGBOTTOM."

            Neville immediately paled and his wand dropped to the floor as Professor McGonagall stormed towards them, Snape at her side. At a glance, it would appear that both Snape and McGonagall were both very angry; well, it was quite obvious McGonagall. Most knew, however, that Snape just jumped at every chance to take points off of Gryffindor. It was a wonder that he had not been the first to yell, instead of Professor McGonagall.

            As the Professor dragged Neville off, so angry that she was bright red in the face, Snape glared at the students still around him. "Shouldn't you all be someplace?" He asked coldly.

            The students didn't need any more persuasion and scurried out of the hall, disappearing into rooms and around the corners.

            Snape kept glaring for a moment, before looking to Kiare. "Miss Lyren, come with me."

            Hermione, Harry, and Ron all wore identical faces of shock as Neville finished his story, looking miserable all over again.

            After a moment, Ron grinned. "Wow, Neville, I never knew you had it in you!" He said, and clapped the other boy on the bag jovially.

            Hermione frowned. "You pulled your wand on her, Neville?" She asked, the tone of her voice showing her obvious disapproval.

            Neville didn't meet her eyes, but the same angry look appeared and he fiddled with his hands nervously. "You don't know her, Hermione. Not like I do." He said quietly, his voice sounding strained.

            Harry glanced at him, then to Ron and Hermione, once again unsure of what to do. But there was one thing that came to his mind, and from the looks of his friends, it was on theirs as well. "Neville," Harry began, carefully looking at the round-faced boy sitting in the chair in front of him, "How exactly do you know Kiare?"

            Neville glanced up, paling slightly, before looking down again, his look of anger dissolving into one of sorrow. "She's…" He hesitated for a moment, and Harry couldn't be sure if he was trying to find a way to phrase it, or if something else was holding him back. "She's an old family friend." He said at last, sounding slightly strained on the friend part. "Her parents.. knew mine…"

            Hermione winced slightly as she heard the tremor in his voice, and glanced at the others. "Maybe you aught to lie down, Neville. You look like you need some rest." She said, standing up finally and offering him a hand.

            Neville looked up at her slowly, before nodding and taking her hand. "Thank you, Hermione." He murmured quietly, glancing at Ron and Harry before hurrying up the stairs to their dorm room.

            After he left, Hermione turned to the two, frowning. "I think he's right. I don't trust that Kiare girl, and it sounds as though Neville's got a detention because of her dirty Slytherin tricks." She said accusingly, surprising both Ron and Harry.

            "He did pull his wand on her, though. In the middle of the hallway, Herm, because his bag split open. Don't you think it would seem a little strange for him to immediately accuse her of breaking his bag?" Ron asked, looking at Harry for support.

            Harry cleared his throat, remembering a particular time when he himself had split open Cedric's bag. But obviously, the spell was used a little differently here, and he couldn't help but wonder if Kiare really had done that to Neville. "Well, Ron has a point.."

            Hermione caught his hesitation, however, and smiled triumphantly. "But you have doubts."

            He paused, before nodding. "Yeah… no offense, Ron, but there is something fishy here." He sat in the chair were Neville had previously been, and pushed his glasses up on his nose, thinking. "He said she was a family friend, but they don't really sound all that friendly together, do they?"

            Ron shook his head, pulling up a chair. "No, especially if they're pulling wands and setting spells on each other in the middle of the hallway." He agreed.

            "And don't forget the train ride up here. She wasn't exactly friendly towards him then, either." Hermione added, and then paused for a moment, as another thought came to her. "And from what I hear, she picks on him a lot. The occurrence in the hallway was hardly the first time, I think, though it might have been the first time they got caught."

            Harry nodded. But there was something else that was bothering him. Something Neville said, about his parents. 'Her parents.. knew mine…' His mind flashed back to the Pensieve in Dumbledore's office, and the trial he had seen in it. Neville's parents were dead, tortured to death by some of Voldemort's Deatheaters. How could Kiare's parents be friends with the Longbottoms? Was it before their deaths, when the two were still just babies? It was kind of ironic, in a way; where their parents were friends, here Kiare and Neville were, trying to kill each other in a school hallway. Very friendly, indeed.

            Finally, he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Who knows." He murmured. He had promised Dumbledore he wouldn't say anything about Neville's parents, and he didn't mean to. "It's getting late, though. We should get some rest."

            Hermione smiled slightly, nodding. "You're right, Harry. We'll have plenty of time to think about this later." She agreed, and then smiled at both of them. "Good night."

            Ron nodded to her as she left, stifling his yawns, before turning to Harry. "Blimey," He said, ruffling his bright red hair some, "First Malfoy, and now her. I think we've done somebody a major wrong somewhere along the lines, to deserve this." He dropped his hand, and looked around. "Well, off to bed then. Like Hermione said, I'm sure by morning it will all be fine."

            Harry forced a smile, getting up and following his friend to bed. If only it were that easy.