THE FAT LADY

Neville Longbottom turned into the corridor leading to the Gryffindor Common Room considerably later than his schoolmates. The reason being, while Harry had to pretend to take Remedial Potions, Neville really did. As he reached the end of the passage, he heard muffled sobs that seemed to be coming from beyond the portrait. No… they were coming from the portrait… he coughed softly, to get her attention, but the Fat Lady either didn't care, or hadn't noticed him yet. Finally, Neville stood right in front of her face and started waving his arms wildly. "HELLO!! I-would-like-to-get-into-the-common-room!" he squealed. She looked up, sniffed twice and gave him a scathing look.

"D-do you have the p-p-pass… the pass…WAAAH!!!" she burst into tears again. "NOBODY LIKES ME! They all think I'm… FAT!!"

"Err… is something wrong?" Asked Neville tentatively. He was not sure what one should do when confronted with obviously hormonal portraits, so he did a sort of twirl with his hands, in hopeful indication of concern.

"You have excellent powers of perception, you know. Has anyone ever told you that?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and she buried her head in her hands. "I suppose you want me to tell you why?"

"I... really must be go-"

"FINE! I'll tell you. You're just too persuasive for me." Neville sighed and sat down, cross-legged, and waited for her to begin. "Why are you still sitting there? Can't you see I want to be alone?"

"Alright then… I guess I'll just go inside-"

"And leave me all alone? That's fine, I'm used to that, you know. Students never just sit and talk to me anymore… I go unappreciated, day after day. They just give the blooming password and go! And I sit here… on the same wall tomorrow and tomorrow…" Neville got comfortable; he could tell he wasn't going anywhere soon. He nodded to her, indicating her to continue. She did. "And on top of that… they insult me! Do you know what they call me? The Fat Lady! FAT? ME? I'm big boned! Never fat.Horizontally challenged…possibly… Gifted in girth, maybe… but not fat. My name is Flaurance Lillian Margereta but they insist on that… that… derogative term! I'm telling you, my self-confidence is lower than zero! I can't sleep at night. I can't even work up the courage to speak to Sir Cadogan. My social life has gone down the drain… Violet has dumped me, says I'm too melodramatic… Melodramatic? Me?! I don't think so." Neville gave a small disbelieving gulp. "SO YOU THINK OTHERWISE AY? Well you don't know what it's like! How can you? I never met my artist. Left me wailing for hours before someone found me, and they hauled me off to a pawnshop! A PAWNSHOP! I ask you!" Neville shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sure…"

"Oh, YOU'RE SURE ARE YOU?"

"Yes, quite… you've gone completely round-the-bend. I-I'm c-calling Mr. F-Filch"

"No… PLEASE! Not that… anything but that… do you even know what that man does to portraits? There's only so much love you can take from a cat… and then he takes out his brushes! Those… terrible… brushes…" She lapsed into a tense silence, broken only by her incomprehensible mutterings. She began to rock back and forth hysterically and Neville started to back slowly away from her painting.

"You're leaving me? Everybody leaves me… they all hate me… the liars… they… leave… me… all… alone…" she trailed off and continued to sway. Neville felt a bit remorseful then, and contented himself with looking shocked and disturbed. He sat down again. "Its alright… don't get upset now! I'll stay… if I have to…."

She snapped out of her reverie.

"Oh don't do me any favors! Its fine! Suure it is… you just go about with your happy little perfect existences… you can all go… every single one. That means you!" Neville was suddenly angry. He most certainly did not have a perfect life, and, although he was not quite certain whether or not she was referring to him, it still bothered him greatly.

"I do not have a perfect life!" He said, "I'm as good as a squib! I'm currently plotting the murder of my Gran...! My parents are as mad as you are! And, worst of all, Harry Potter doesn't return my feelings! SO there!" He noted her shocked and amused expression; "Yeah, you take that!" he shouted again, and started to breathe heavily. She cocked an eyebrow at Neville, who was now softly banging his head against the stone wall. He suddenly stopped, still facing the wall, and began to rotate slowly on his heel until he came face to canvas with the portrait.

Then, pointing a trembling finger at her, he said, "It's you… it was always you… YOU!!" He thrust he arm out as far as it would go, finger still pointing accusingly at The Fat Lady. (Or, in politically correct terms, The Gravitationally Advanced Female) He paused, suddenly, as if doubting himself. "I have to go now… yes, I think… I-I think… that would be best… if I went… now… I have to go now…" He looked nervously at her, twitching slightly. She looked at him with great apprehension, then said; "I supposed you want to go? Yes, it is getting rather late. I say… why didn't you go in before? You've been standing here for ages…" He looked at her incredulously, but she continued; "Do you have the password?" Neville stared at her for another minute. "Come now boy! You can't stay here all night! Just give me the password!"

"Okay." Neville shrugged, "Flipside Mirror."

The portrait swung open and Neville climbed inside.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well... there it is... now, I understand that this may not be to everyones taste, so... whether you liked it, hated it or just want to say hi, (nod) I want to hear from you. Flames also accepted. You all be good now!

trixas/