Chapter 8: Running from Umbridge
Dumbledore's Army, or the DA, turned into a rousing success, especially with the great Harry Potter as its leader.
At least, that was Neville's opinion. He was mastering spells that had troubled him for years. And the best part was, he got to show off his growing confidence to Hermione Granger.
The pair were matched up often for practice duels. Neville suspected Harry's selections were based on aptitudes diametrically opposed, for Hermione could Stun or hex him quite easily. But Neville didn't mind, as he got to bask in the glow of Hermione's smile and warm brown eyes whenever she pulled him to his feet.
"You're getting better," she praised during one nightly session just before Christmas, keeping her hand in his even after helping him up.
Neville happened to glance towards the ceiling, so that he noticed a sprig of Mistletoe glistening unnoticed directly above their heads. He considered gathering his courage, stepping into Hermione's space and kissing her when -
BOOM. A periodic shuddering rocked the Room of Requirement, until a decent hole crumbled in from the stone wall. Peering cautiously through, Harry and his students saw several Inquisitors and a familiarly sadistic witch glaring evilly back at them. Umbridge had found them.
The door to the Room of Requirement was blasted off its hinges.
"RUN!" Harry bellowed. Neville took off, dragging Hermione behind him and refusing to let go. He didn't even check to see if Harry or Ron would make it to safety. Nor did he have time to revel in the soft feeling of Hermione's palm clasped in his own.
"Neville, Neville! Where are we going?" Hermione cried.
"Come on!" Neville dashed them down a corridor, a shortcut that would take them to the Gryffindor Common Room on the next bend when -
The pair were suddenly surrounded. "Freeze, Longbottom!" Draco Malfoy and his blonde hair grinned smugly as Neville and Hermione had no choice but to throw down their wands and reach for the sky...
