I meet Draco in the library. Without his thugs. Seems like they attached themselves to him uninvited, like leeches, 'cause his family is rich – at least, that's what he told me. And I have no reason to doubt him. We talk for quite some time before Harry joins us.
I sit on a comfy couch in the library, Harry to my left and Draco to my right and I feel happy for the first time in a while.
"What did the headmaster want from you?" Harry has this amazing network of spies and knows everything that goes on around the school. Nice to know he's interested in what I do.
I tell them what happened. And once I started talking about it, I can't stop. I tell them everything – about my uncle, the cupboard, the abuse and the police. About my family and that I miss them a lot. About the talk with Dumbledore.
I don't know why I feel like I can trust them so completely – it's just a feeling. I just know I can.
We talk for a long time. Draco tells us about his family, his house elves, and how lonely you can feel when you're an only child in a 100 bedroom manor. About his strict father and his very absent mother. About long dinner tables where no talking is possible. About housekeepers and butlers.
Harry, of course, is his complete opposite. Again. He's grown up with three little sisters, a loving father and a mom who cooks (according to his words) like a goddess. He tells us about his godfather and about heavenly cookies. About meals in a loud and stuffed kitchen in a big old house near London. About playing Quidditch in the backyard. About lots of friends and a Muggle school.
"Why did you go to a Muggle school?" asks Draco, suspicious of anything that sounds even remotely non-wizardly.
"Oh," Harry almost squirms. Seems he feels this is kind of a character flaw. "My Mum is Muggleborn, you know? And she wants all of us to have a good education in the non wizard subjects. That's why I'm doing Summer school, too."
We talk and talk. I don't even remember all of it, but it is good to sit here and talk about normal stuff. About teachers, homework, housemates that snore and classes. Seems Draco likes Potions just as much as I do. Harry hates it. He can't stand the Professor – seems he already gave him detention for not listening. He had to clean cauldrons for a whole evening while Snape was glaring over his shoulder. I haven't received one of his famous glares yet, I never gave him any reason to be mad at me.
Draco, on the other hand, can't stand professor McGonagall. Harry likes her, of course.
They can't agree on any subject or teacher except Dumbledore. After what I told them, they don't like him at all. And Quidditch – they both like it and can't stop arguing about their teams. I kinda feel left out when they do, because I don't know a lot about that subject.
I learned how to fly a broom and I recently learned the Quidditch rules – but somehow I can't seem to get as enthusiastic about some kind of flying soccer as they do.
The Library is empty when we finally leave, it is late. As we approach the place where we need to go into different directions, I feel a little lost. I don't want to leave them, I want to keep them. I want to stay with them and talk until the morning. I want to…
"Good Night, Neville," says Harry. He looks sad – I don't think he wants to leave, either. I hug him.
"Good night, Harry" I whisper. "Thank you for listening"
I hug Draco, too. It feels a little awkward, standing in the cold hallway, hugging other 11 year old boys, but I don't think they mind.
"Thank you, Draco, for listening to me."
My mom brought me up to be polite. Also, I really feel like thanking them. They listened to me, talked to me like human beings and for the first time in a while I felt almost normal and happy. Not like a freak. Not like the hero of the wizarding world. Not like someone who has to be thankful for being saved. Like a boy.
They hug each other, too, before we go off into different directions.
I don't think Harry and Draco would get along very well without me. But I need them. Draco with his upper class attitude and his obvious nobility is the cool air I need to breath and popular Harry, with his network of friend and his incorruptible sense of humour is the earth to keep me grounded. I wonder what I must be to them?