Sleepless Night Yr 5

Neville lay on his bed with his belly to the mattress, listening to Harry mumble in his sleep for the third night in a row. It was the sort of mumble that couldn't be ignored and was growing in intensity by the moment. Harry suddenly snored and the mumbling stopped for a time, but Neville couldn't get back to sleep.

He rolled over, grabbed his quill and diary and nicked the candle near him. He wandered down to the common room and found it devoid of life. It was comforting to be alone for the moment and he settled down by the fire with his quietly guttering candle. He picked up his quill and dipped into the ink pot he found on the stand nearest him. That was the nice thing about the common room in Gryffindor tower, there was always a spare ink pot lying around. He began to write.

"Every time Harry has a sleepless night I have a sleepless night. I'm not sure why, but when he can't sleep neither can I. I toss and turn and listening to his mumbling for hours and no matter how hard I try I can't sleep. Even when I stop trying I can't sleep.

"I'm beginning to think that Harry and I have a connection that keeps us both awake at night. We're both orphans, well I a practically am and both of us haven't had easy lives. I tend to stick with Harry, no matter how crazy the things he says may be. For some reason, I believe him. What's more is that I feel the same way sometimes. It's like there's a thread from his brain into mine and sometimes I feel what he's feeling. Sometimes I know what he's going to say before he says it.

"Maybe that just comes from living with someone for almost five years. I wish I could be like him in other ways. I wish I had his bravery. I wish I had his knack for getting into and out of trouble. I wish I could feel like I really belong in Gryffindor.

"Ever since the sorting hat put me here I've felt it was a mistake. I'm not brave. I'm not courageous. What am I here for? But maybe it's because of my past and everything I've been through with Gran and mum and dad…

"Harry saw me in the ward and he hasn't said anything about it. Hermione, Ginny and Ron too. None of them have said anything and I think they're waiting for me to say something about it. But honestly, I'm not ready to answer those questions. You'd think after living with that for close to fifteen years now, you'd think I'd be ok with it. But it wasn't always that way.

"I can barely remember when my mum recognized me. I can remember when dad dandled me on his knee. But it's been Gran and me for years and those memories are so far away. If I didn't go to see mum and dad on every holiday I can only imagine I'd have a hard time remembering what they looked like.

"It's getting late diary. I should probably hit the bunk. Goodnight,

"Neville."

He turned around. Someone had said his name just as he'd written it. He looked over his shoulder to see Harry, standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Couldn't sleep?" Harry asked.

"No. You either?"

"No." Harry said quietly. "Want to go nick some food from the kitchens?"

"No thanks Harry, I'm just about ready for bed."

"Night then." Harry said in a very distracted sort of way.

"Night." Neville replied as he walked up the stairs. When he was back into his bed, diary tucked under his pillows he sighed heavily. He wasn't even brave enough to steal down into the kitchens with Harry Potter, someone he considered a friend. When was he ever going to be able to prove he belonged here?