A/N: Ha, I thought it was finished, sorry! have some more!
Neville Longbottom died.
A lot.
First when his potion blew up on him and melted most of his body. Professor Snape caught it in time and sent Crabbe and Goyle with Neville's head and shoulders in one bucket and the gloopy rest in a another to the infirmary, and continued with the lesson. Crabbe and Goyle were always sent with the bodies because one, they were strong, and two, they learned the same amount whether they were in the class or out. Which was very minimal.
Neville spent the week in the infirmary growing the rest of his body back, and to everyone's astonishment, it was just as chubby as before.
They were in the dining hall, discussing it, and Pansy Parkinson said, "I would have asked Madam Pomfrey to do something about that." And then she became all thoughtful and Hermione Granger—the bushy-haired girl whose name Harry had finally learned—was quick to tell her that it was not a good way to improve yourself. She had read about it and Mediwitches were just like the Muggles' First Responders. If Pansy wanted to do anything about her nose it would be better to go to a Healer.
"Who said anything about my nose?!"
"Well, I thought—"
"My nose is fine!"
"I know. I just—"
"Don't talk to me anymore!"
Pansy slammed her spoon on the table and stormed off, leaving a bewildered Hermione behind. "What did I say wrong?" she asked Harry.
He shrugged. "I don't know."
Neville died again when they had their first flying lesson. It was a mixed-house class with the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. No one was too happy about it, for house rivalry had already begun. The class had barely started when Neville's broom took off with him, aiming straight for the sun, bucking like a rabid Clabbert—which was a tree-dwelling creature resembling a cross between a frog and a monkey. Everyone stood in frozen horror while Madam Hooch flew after him. But she was too slow, she reached him just as Neville's broom gave a magnificent buck and he went tumbling.
"Feet first!" Madam Hooch yelled. "Turn yourself around, boy!"
He did his best but by the time he hit the ground he had only managed to get himself horizontal, and he broke his neck with a wet crunch that the students dreamed about for weeks after. The rest of his body didn't fare well either and Ron said, "He looks a bit flatter, don't you think?"
Harry nodded. He did.
Madam Hooch bent over him and raised an eyelid. "You're fine!" she said. "Let's get you inside!"
She levitated Neville into the castle, warning the students not to fly while she was gone. As one they all sat on the grass, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike.
"…Shall we play Pattycake?" Hermione asked Harry, sitting cross-legged in front of him.
"Yeah okay."
The wizard-born kids didn't know it and they explained. Soon everyone was playing it. And then Pattycake devolved into Slaps, Gryffindors against Slytherins. Millicent Bulstrode had a mean arm. So did Crabbe and Goyle, who were Draco's enforcers, and some of the slaps were heated enough that they forgot all about Neville. Crabbe even wondered if maybe they could try flying because Madam Hooch was taking forever. After all, what would Madam Hooch do if she caught them, kill them?
"Worse," Hermione said. "We might get expelled."
Neville died at midnight, in a classroom on the third-floor corridor, on the right-hand side, eaten by a three-headed dog that they later learned was called Fluffy. They also learned, but this was too late, that music made the dog sleep, and had they known it they could have saved Neville that way.
Once they stopped crying, they realised they had to tell someone. Hermione, Ron, and Harry all agreed that someone wouldn't be Filch, and they went and knocked on Professor McGonagall's door.
"I don't understand," a still sniffling Hermione said to Professor McGonagall when Ron handed what was left of Neville over to her. Which, sadly was only a foot, still in its slipper. "I was sure it was trolls that fell asleep with music, not Cerberuses. Cerberi? Did I get it wrong?"
"Cerberuses. Most magical creatures can be soothed with music," Professor McGonagall said. "You were all lucky to choose singing in the arena, for trolls are impervious to everything except a choir. Usually the students need to beat them to death."
Harry thought of every horror movie his cousin had ever watched and how the people sang or whistled when they were walking down dark corridors towards certain death. It was interesting how things overlapped between the Muggle and magical worlds. Like Abracadabra and Avada Kedavra… "Is that why the school has a frog choir?" Harry asked. "Is it like a protection of some sort?"
Professor McGonagall sighed. "Mr Potter, it is past midnight, I am tired, I still have to inform Mr Longbottom's grandmother that he hadn't made it, and these questions may keep for your detention, yes?"
"Yes, Professor." That was the first they heard about detention but he supposed it was only fair.
"Detention," Ron groaned. "Even the twins didn't have detention yet, I'll never hear the end of it!"
