Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters,you kow the drill
Overlooked
Story by StormDancer
Chapter 3
It is not light that we need, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake.
"So, Neville, You going to the dance?" Ron asked the night before the dance.
Neville took a deep breath. Now, more than ever, they all had to believe him.
"Nah," he said, shrugging, "I think I'm just going to hang here. Dances are stupid anyways."
Ron looked blankly at his friend.
"But didn't you have a whole pl-"
Neville cut Ron off abruptly.
"I gave up on that."
Ron stared harder. Neville squirmed inside. He knew he was a bad liar. He was simply counting on Ron's assumption that Neville would never lie. He was glad that it was Ron, and not Hermione, who had asked this. She might have seen through him.
Ron shrugged.
"Your loss."
He walked up to his dorm. Neville heaved a sigh of relief. The first test had been passed. Now for all the rest.
He collapsed into a chair in front of the fire, staring into it absently. Neville started, peering closer. He could barely make out the figures, yet there were undoubtedly pictures in the fire. He leaned in, nearly scorching his hair.
o0O0o0O0o
He saw figures he knew, and some that looked only vaguely familiar. He saw Harry dueling Voldemort. As he watched, Voldemort's wand let out a blast of green light, and Harry fell. Voldemort laughed, no sound coming from the fire, yet still he laughed, pushing Harry aside with his foot. Voldemort whipped around, and shot two more bolts of green fire. Ron and Hermione collapsed, holding each other even in death.
Ginny leaped behind Voldemort, shrieking soundlessly. Voldemort flicked his wand, and she fell on top of Harry. Neville saw himself standing on the side, approaching Voldemort stealthily from behind. He saw a figure step between himself and Voldemort. Even as it pointed its wand at him and mouthed words, the light lit up the figures face. Sophia looked on impassively as Neville collapsed in pain, mouthing screams. The real Neville screamed as well.
"This is what will be."
A voice spoke, a mixture of his Gran's and Dumbledore's voices. It spoke again.
"You will fail your friends. All will die. You will be killed by those you love."
Neville stood, his face streaked with tears.
"NO"
"You have no choice. Evil will emerge victorious. This is how it was always fated," the voice took on an aspect of Professor Trelawney's voice, except harsh and deep, "And the great ones, the pure ones, will rule. You can live, Pure One. Become truly pure and you will survive and find joy."
The voice faded. Neville looked once more into the fire. Now he saw a different scene. He and Sophia were walking on a beach. As they stood, he reached over and kissed her. The beach changed. Now they were kissing in front of the scene from the other vision. As they kissed, Voldemort killed Harry.
o0O0o0O0o
"Mate? Neville?" Ron shook Neville tentatively. "It's almost breakfast time."
Neville awoke with a start. He was lying in the chair he had collapsed in last night. Automatically, he glanced at the fire. It was clear, the flames with their blue core. Neville shook his head to clear it. Had it all been just a dream?
Ron took his head shake to mean he wasn't coming.
"Come on. We really don't have much time."
"What do you mean? There're no classes today. It's Halloween."
Ron nodded vigorously.
"Exactly. And we have an appointment with our brooms at exactly noon."
He glanced at his watch.
"Which is in an hour. Come on!"
Neville grinned as he followed Ron out of the common room. Apparently Ron had forgotten he couldn't fly. No matter, he would have to tell all of them sometime.
o0O0o0O0o
Neville lay on his bed, watching everyone get ready for the dance. He laughed with the rest as Ron put on his new dress robes backwards, and gladly helped Dean into his enormous hippogriff costume.
He thought that telling the rest about his flying had gone rather well, actually. The only comment on him actually flying, and well, was Ron's startled,
"You've improved!"
The other boys hadn't even been shocked very much. Thus, he had enjoyed his afternoon, which he appreciated very much. He couldn't implement his plan in a bad mood.
Neville saw the other boys out of the dorm with a
"Have fun! Don't get too drunk!"
He was answered with a laugh and a wave.
Neville turned back to his trunk. Out of it he took jet black dress robes, lined with cabbalistic silver symbols, and his mask. After carefully putting them on, he looked in the mirror. Satisfied his disguise was impenetrable, he glanced in the hallway. Seeing no one, he proceeded out of the portrait hole and down to the dance.
o0O0o0O0o
Sophia Kuval roamed the dance floor, looking for Derek. He had said he would be back with punch about fifteen minutes ago. She wandered, her eyes scanning the dance floor for people she knew. She saw Cho dancing with Roger Davies, Zacharias dancing with Susan Bones, and most of her friends. But one was conspicuously absent.
'I wonder where Neville is.' She thought absently, still searching for Derek. Where could he be? She rounded a large crowd of people, and got the answer to her question. Derek was sitting beneath Pansy Parkinson, who was nearly swallowing him whole. And worse, he seemed to reciprocate! She turned and ran blindly back through the crowd, Derek not even noticing she had ever been there.
She fled, running towards the door. She started looking frantically around again, but this time what she needed was different. Still seeing no sign of her quarry, she continued to run. 'Neville!' she screamed mentally, 'I need you! You're always there when I need you!'
As if on cue, she ran into somebody. He picked her up and set her on her silvery pink, high heeled shoes. She looked up into his eyes, and immediately relaxed. Neville had responded to her call, like she knew he would.
After a second look, she knew her first impression was wrong. This could not be Neville. Despite the half mask over his eyes, she could see this mans face was stronger, more defined. He had muscles that rippled on his arms when he had set her back on her feet.
"Are you alright, milady?" he asked in a rich, deep whisper.
"Yes," she answered with a smile, Derek forgotten, "I'm alright now."
"Then," he said with a chuckle in his throaty voice, "I feel vindicated in asking for a dance."
She giggled and nodded, curtseying so that the gauzy pink material fluttered around her shapely legs. He took her arm solemnly, and led her to the dance floor. As if on cue, a slow dance came on. She grabbed his arms and pulled him closer where he would have stopped an arms distance apart. He stiffened, than relaxed.
As they swayed in time with the music, Sophia realized why she had thought this man was Neville, when at a look they were as different as night and day. They had the same aura of comfort, which exuded 'it's going to be okay' vibes. She relaxed into his shoulder, and her head stayed there until the music stopped.
They moved apart as the song ended, smiling softly at each other. They stood that way for a long moment, until it was rudely interrupted.
"What do you think you're doing?" Derek's yell drew both of their attention.
Sophia shrugged, "Dancing?"
Derek swore at her.
"You cheating slut! I bring you to a dance and the next thing I see is you almost on top of another guy! You bloody Whore!"
As he yelled, Sophia shrunk back, visibly hurt by his words. The mystery man stood straighter at this sight.
"Sir, I believe she wishes you to leave." He said calmly.
"The hell she does! I know what's best for her!"
The other boy walked slowly over to Derek. He looked him straight in the eyes and forcefully said,
"She wants you to leave!"
Derek stared back, but his will was weak and he turned and disappeared into the crowd. The mystery boy turned back to Sophia, who gazed back at him in awe.
"Are you alright?" he inquired for the second time this evening.
"Yeah, I think so."
"Was he the reason you were upset earlier?"
"I wasn't upset!"
"You were."
"How'd you know?"
"I have my ways."
"Were you spying?"
"NO, I'm just good at reading people. Especially beautiful girls."
Sophia blushed, her pink cheeks matching her dress. The boy smiled down at her.
"I'll be fine," she muttered, "He'll probably be sucking face with Parkinson again in another couple of minutes"
The mystery boy's expression turned to rage.
"Is that why you were crying?" he asked quickly.
Sophia nodded.
"I should have done more than just threaten him!" the boy exclaimed.
Sophia looked at him quizzically.
"You didn't threaten him"
He grinned and patted her on the head like a child.
"Not with words, little one."
She pouted up at him cutely. Only Neville could pat her on the head or call her little. She was only a few inches shorter than this boy.
"So, mystery boy, what should I call my gallant rescuer? Mystery sounds like a name for a horse," Sophia said flirtatiously.
The boy started slightly.
"I'm your humble servant, mademoiselle," he said with a bow.
She beamed at him.
"But what's your name?" she asked again.
"Neron," he said, kissing her hand, "you may call me Neron."
"Is that foreign? What does it mean?" Sophia asked, all childish enthusiasm.
"Strong and stern in Spanish. And on that note," he said as the bell that signaled the end of dance began to ring, "I must leave you. But do not worry, princess of the fey, we will see each other once more. When I am needed, you will see me."
Sophia stared after him. The last thing she saw was a swirl of the silver signs on the edge of his robes. When she slept that night, her sleep was not filled with the black hair and green eyes she had seen before. Instead, brown hair and chestnut eyes covered her dreams.