The Prince-Who-Lived

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The next week passed quickly, and as the time came for them to return, Harry almost wished he didn't quite have to. The prospect of dealing with Umbridge again was irritating, and Harry felt like pulling his hair out. Finally, it was time to catch the train back and he determinedly reminded himself of meeting up with Alan after they got back. When they arrived at Kings Cross, Lily immediately hailed Alice and Harry watched them with a smile before heading back to the train to find Ron and the others. Surprisingly, Ron, Hannah and Susan were already sitting together with Hermione standing between them. She'd been crying. Harry ditched his trunk to go to her immediately.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" His eyes, however, had found evidence he didn't want to see. She was holding a shattered watch. "Hermione?"

"He threw it at me when I tried to talk to him!" She sobbed. "He was talking with that cow Padma in the prefect's compartment. I went to say hi, and he didn't even look at me. When I tried to get his attention he grabbed my wrist and told me he wasn't interested, and I-" She flushed," I slapped him, not hard. He stepped back and threw that at me and told me to leave him alone. I couldn't stay; I ran here. I'm sorry, it just-"

She fell into sobs again, but Harry wasn't thinking. He couldn't think. He felt like something had crawled into his ears and made his brain simply disappear, because this must be the twilight zone. She couldn't have just said Neville did all that. Neville didn't do that. Hell, Harry had spoken with him four days ago and he'd been looking forward to seeing Hermione again. He hadn't taken the watch off since he'd gotten it. This couldn't have happened.

Harry finally registered that someone was pinching him and his arm said it wasn't the first time. He yelped and glared at the perpetrator and found himself looking at Susan.

"Earth to Harry, come in boy. Are you thinking yet?"

"I was thinking." Harry groused. "It just wasn't making sense. Are you sure that was Neville?"

"There can't be two idiots of that calibre on the train that Hermione would normally talk to, now can there?" Hannah snapped. "I don't know what he was thinking, but that is despicable."

Harry's mouth moved around a phrase he didn't dare utter at the moment. 'Neville wouldn't do that.' He wouldn't. Harry had known him since they were children, and Neville didn't change that abruptly. Harry sighed heavily and felt the train begin to move. He must have been out of it longer than he'd thought. Hermione and Hannah, unneeded in the prefect's compartment on the way back to Hogwarts from break, remained in their compartment, and Harry stood firmly.

"I'm going to go talk to Melanie."

Hannah nodded, still sitting with Hermione. Hermione had started crying, sobbing and clutching the watch she'd put so much effort into spelling. Harry hoped he didn't run into Neville. He'd punch him before getting him to talk, and that would not be a good start. His brother just didn't do that. When had he lost his mind? He couldn't be under outside influence; his parents were aurors and would notice. Neville could fight the imperius, and love spells and potions were unlikely. Harry didn't think Padma was prone to that, besides which how would she get it to him? Maybe it would work itself out? Maybe …

Harry finally found Melanie's compartment, and upon opening it was attacked by a dusky and fluffy cat almost as comical in appearance as Crookshanks. Ginny jumped on it.

"Arachne, get back in here. Harry's safe. Hey, what are you doing looking us up?" Ginny asked. She was sitting with Melanie, Nanna and Luna; surprisingly, Dillan had joined them as well, sitting next to the door and glaring at him for intruding. He was surprisingly good at it.

"Hey Ginny, where'd you get the cat?" He couldn't help but ask. It was a sleek animal, having calmed from it's enthusiastic puffball attack mode, and admittedly gorgeous when calm. It also appeared to be at least part kneazle.

"Blaise gave her to me for Christmas." Ginny blushed. "She's beautiful. Said she's kneazle and turkish angora."

"Very nice." Harry nodded. He turned to Melanie next, but didn't miss that Nanna seemed to be eyeing Dillan. Oh, he didn't need that but he swallowed any protectiveness for his own safety. He was here with purpose, not to defend his sister from nonexistent threats. "Melanie, can I talk to you?"

"It's about Neville's stupidity, isn't it?" Melanie said baldly. Harry felt his heart drop. It was true, then, and wasn't limited to Hermione. "He hasn't talked to the rest of us or mum or dad since he decided to fall off his broom on the Western boundary, concuss himself and break his wand. He's been fucking miserable since, and no, I don't know why."

Lead dropped into his stomach. "When did this happen?"

"Three days ago." Melanie shrugged negligently. "It's fucking stupid. Dad says it might be the concussion, but I wouldn't know. They've been arguing about getting him to see a mediwitch, but he doesn't want to go. He's in deep shit right now, and probably digging himself deeper."

Harry's face fell, and he struggled with himself for a moment before nodding slowly and stepping out. He couldn't face this. Neville was hurt, Hermione was hurt, and for some reason Neville just kept making it worse. What the Hell was he thinking?

Harry squelched any desire he had to go seek Neville out. He couldn't do it. He couldn't deal with it. He'd pick a fight, and probably lose and if Neville was as unstable as he was, Harry didn't want to face his arsenal. Forcefully, Harry calmed himself down and then remembered he'd seen Alan in his compartment in the next car on the way back. Maybe Alan would have some idea. Although Blaise and Neville might pick a fight, it probably wouldn't be too bad; Blaise stubbornly kept track of Neville's ability, and it would be his choice to face off with it. Harry needed someone to talk to who might possibly understand. He couldn't handle losing Neville right now; he was completely off balance. And he couldn't go face him.

Knocking on the Slytherin's compartment door and ignoring the fourth year Ravenclaw staring at him from the next compartment, Harry awkwardly waited for the door to open. He was surprised to find himself face-to-face with a scowling black sixth year. It took him a moment to remember his name. Speaking to Alan about the Slytherins wasn't the same as facing them himself.

"Salvador?" Harry asked awkwardly. The boy tilted his head, and from behind him Alan scolded,

"Let him in already you buffoon. Harry, what are you doing here?" Alan's voice was curious, not aggressive, and Harry sent him a strained smile when he could see him.

"I needed to find someone smart to talk to, since Neville's sent his head on vacation. Something's wrong with him and I don't know what, and if I try and talk to him right now I'll throttle him."

Alan's eyebrows rose, and Blaise grunted. "He was acting dodgy when I passed him in the corridor. Looked like a ruddy storm cloud. What's wrong?"

"Can I step in? Or …" The compartment was full, but Salvador pulled Lucille into his lap and Tracey scooted from sitting by Alan to press against Theodore's side. Blaise remained stubbornly where he was – sitting by Alan's right. Harry happily took the open seat and sent a meaninglessly pleasant smile at the defensive Blaise. Alan groaned.

"Both of you grow up. Blaise, no picking a fight with Neville until we get back to the school. Harry, what's happening?"

It hurt to explain it, but Harry did. "Neville's apparently split abruptly with Hermione. Hermione found him in the prefect's compartment talking with Padma. He ignored her when she tried to get him attention, and then- threw her Christmas gift back at her, broken. She went back to Ron's and my compartment in tears. I went to ask Melanie what had happened – he'd been fine when I spoke with him four days ago! He was eager to see Hermione again, and hadn't taken the watch off since he'd gotten it! – Melanie told me he'd fallen off his broom and gotten a concussion three days ago, and been miserable ever since. He – he also apparently broke his wand in the fall."

Everyone winced. Alan paled. "It's really upsetting to break your wand, Harry. Completely broken?"

"I don't know." Harry answered. "We haven't talked at all in the last few days; I'd just heard he was grounded and had other things to do. I really don't know what happened. Thing is, he's always been bad on a broom; he can fly, but sometimes he'll just have an accident. It isn't the first time that happened, it isn't even the first time he's been badly hurt by it! But he's never had such a reaction before."

"Sometimes concussions can cause abrupt changes in a person's personality." Lucille commented. "Did Melanie say how bad it was?"

"No. She did say her father had mentioned it and had wanted to take Neville to a mediwitch, though."

"It probably would be best." Lucille mused. "Concussions are serious. Magic in someone's brain is delicate, complicated work when you're healing. We can heal ourselves very well and very quickly, especially in brain damage, but it's not as expedient as when a mediwitch helps." She came out of her mental textbook and offered, "He might stabilize to normal again in a few days, provided he isn't cursed into oblivion."

Harry laughed without humour. "He chose a ruddy stupid plan of action for that. If Blaise doesn't attack him, Hermione just might. And if something happens to Hermione, I'm going to attack him whether he likes it or not. He's got the wrong kinda friends for that."

Lucille shrugged. "Well, it would certainly get him in to see Madam Pomfrey."

Alan laughed at Harry's startled expression. "We're Slytherin, Harry. Any means to achieve our goals. Or nearly any. If you want to be a good Slytherin you need to have only a few things you won't do. Hexing someone to get them to see the mediwitch for a completely different problem is not unheard of." Alan shot a glare at Lucille and she smiled sweetly back.

"You were being foolish, Alan."

"Severus was taking care of it just fine."

"No he wasn't."

"Yes, he was. Stop arguing."

"No, he wasn't. Stop arguing, Alan, before I hex you again."

Alan sat back with a bright smile. "Lucy, do you want to face off against Harry and Blaise?"

"Harry's not that scary." Lucille countered, but she shot a worried look his direction. Harry made sure to smile sweetly at her, the perfect Gryffindor. Lucille froze and sighed. "Fine, I'll stop. You haven't changed my opinion though."

Harry pouted. "I was trying for harmless. What scared you off?"

"Last time I attacked a 'harmless' looking friend of Alan's I got bit."

"Andrew did not bite you." Alan countered. "And what on earth made you think him 'harmless'?"

Harry began to look forward to spending a bit more time here. He looked across at Blaise. "Do they always do this?"

"Yes." Blaise answered, smiling. "Lucille's taken to treating Alan like a little brother, and Alan acts the part perfectly in telling her he can take care of himself. It's been a while since she's stopped when he threatens her with his side, since neither Tracey nor Theodore are good enough to go against her and she can take me one-on-one. Nice having you here for backup."

Harry nodded and tuned back in as Lucille scoffed,

"Gryffindor back up is not frightening."

"Neville probably knows more spells than you do, Lucille. He's past seventh year in some of the spells he can cast at any rate."

Lucille smiled thinly. "Yes, but he's currently a screwball right now, isn't he?"

Harry had surged to his feet before he could think, and the spell was out of his wand before he could consider another action. Lucille shrieked for a long moment before it registered that it was a simple powered-up tickling charm, and then she struggled to cancel it, failing the first time she tried. Tracey had leapt into Theodore's lap, much to his embarrassment, and the door to the compartment was thrown open by an irritable older Ravenclaw. He wore a prefect's badge and was scowling at the commotion. He cancelled the spell and frowned at the students.

"Alan, stop making a commotion. What was that uproar about?"

"Harry felt Lucille's comment was an insult to his friend and took offence. Sorry about that, Jonas."

"Be a little more discrete, would you? Since when are you friends with the Potters?"

Alan looked at Harry a moment, and shot a short glance at the prefect. Harry felt conflicted for a long moment before he nodded slowly. Alan's smile widened.

"Since second year."

"You ripped each other apart third year, Alan."

Alan merely raised his eyebrow, and Jonas turned to look Harry over. Harry wasn't sure what to make of the black-haired seventh-year, but waited for the other shoe to drop. He'd certainly never heard of him before. When he finally met the hazel eyes again, Jonas was smiling vindictively. He offered his hand to Harry.

"Jonas Hodges, Ravenclaw seventh-year prefect. Nice to meet you; I've heard a few good things, more bad, all promising."

Harry felt a bit thrown, and accepting the handshake carefully. "Harry Potter. I'm sorry to say I've never heard anything …"

"That's alright." Jonas smiled. Harry noticed his smile never touched his eyes. He had the silly thought he should count his fingers. "We're not the most popular family among aurors. Slytherins and Ravenclaws and mostly self-centred without being Dark enough to join any causes. Please don't cause that much noise again without silencing the compartment, would you?"

He waved off and stepped back into the hallway, waving the students back into their compartments as he went. Alan shut the door, ignoring Lucille's irritable glare. Harry sat down heavily.

"I'm sure I've heard the name somewhere before." Harry insisted. "Who are the Hodges?"

"Jonas summed it up pretty well, actually." Salvador answered. "I was surprised he said that much. He really meant it when he said they were self-centred. They don't do anything without gaining something from it themselves."

"Mild immunity." Alan offered. "Harry's the son of an auror. If he's friendly with an auror's child, people will think twice before questioning him."

Harry blinked. "And he isn't in Slytherin why?"

"He spends more time in the library than talking with others, that's why. It's the only reason Hodges are ever Ravenclaws, when they love books more than people." Salvador answered. "I've heard he can also stay awake through Binns' lectures, to boot. Only Ravenclaws can do that."

"I suppose." Harry murmured.

It was interesting, and comfortable hanging out with Alan. So much so that he was caught by surprise when the train began to slow. Harry stood with a nervous twitch, and Blaise laughed derisively.

"Ashamed to be seen with us?" Blaise scoffed.

Harry coloured. "No, just habit, I suppose. I feel like I'm forgetting my stuff even when I know it's going to be taken in without me. And I left Hermione completely alone …"

"She was with Susan and Hannah. I'm sure they were fine with it." Alan soothed. "You needed to calm down, and try not to run into Neville getting up to the castle. Do you not want to walk with us?"

Alan's eyes were carefully stern.

"No, it's just a change in routine." Harry admitted. "And yes, it's a bit unnerving, but since Ravenclaw will be talking about it for days on end, I might as well stick with it. Crying women …" He shut up as Lucille's eyes flashed. Alan smiled and clapped him on the shoulder before they awaited the stop.

IIII

Fortunately enough for Harry, he didn't have to avoid Neville: Neville avoided him. He didn't even see him as he entered the hall until he'd sat down and found him talking quietly and ridiculously closely with a giggling Parvati. Harry couldn't believe it; first he hadn't thought Neville would ever sink so low as to chat up the Patils, and second that the Patils could be stupid enough to buy it. Harry and Neville had never given them the time of day before unless they had to. Neville had brutally ignored Padma at the Yule Ball, but it appeared all was forgiven for some bizarre reason Harry couldn't figure out.

Dinner between those left behind was tense. Hermione sniffed sadly several times, and if looks could kill Neville would've keeled over from Ron's furious glares. Harry couldn't be angry, not yet. He was far too confused. Maybe he could get something straight that evening?

It didn't happen. Neville went straight to bed and the spells –augmented by Neville from within – didn't allow contact. Normally by intent Neville let Harry in when he wasn't irritated with him. Perhaps there was just a lingering jealousy? He'd had a bad day or two coming into Christmas break, himself. Perhaps …

Morning came, and Neville was gone before Harry even woke. Again, at the morning meal he was sitting with Parvati. When Harry and the others went to History, he lingered and nearly came in late, again with Parvati. Harry was growing sick and tired of the blithering bimbo; he didn't know if he'd be able to stand seeing Neville doting on her for no reason.

That class, Harry stayed awake through it all, although he heard not a word Binns said: He was staring at Neville as though mere will power could divine the reason for his behaviour. Finally, frustrated, Harry attempted to accomplish Legilimency as Alan had described it. It didn't work; they hadn't worked on it, but it gave him something to do, something to hope for during the frustrating class, especially since he forgot for a time that Neville had mastered Crystal Occlumency. He might as well have tried to glare a hole in the wall.

Apparently following Parvati had become Neville's mantra; it was completely befuddling the entire class save for Lavender and the last air-headed girl, Sophie. The two of them were giggling constantly. Hermione and Ron were seething with anger, and Seamus and Dean determinedly stayed out of it. Averill stayed mostly neutral, but she eyed the other girls with disgust. Harry suspected she both didn't care, and remembered how badly Neville had treated them before. Walking into a class with Draco as well as the off-balance Neville left Harry's back itching nervously. He couldn't stand it.

Hermione looked helplessly around the Potions classroom as Neville took the seat by the oh-so-grateful Parvati, and Harry stepped forward to take her arm. She twitched, and finally whispered, "I'm sorry," before pulling helplessly away. Averill stood and took her arm, sitting comfortably beside her at the front.

The rest of the class shifted nervously as everything changed by that move; the Gryffindors jumped when the Slytherins began to change position in accordance. Harry heard Ron squeak as, instead of Harry sitting beside him as he'd expected, Theodore quietly asked for the seat as Alan firmly grabbed Harry's shoulder and steered him to the seat Blaise normally took. Blaise sullenly allowed Daphne to pull him down in the seat behind Ron, as Tracey invited herself beside a now-silent Sophie. The Gryffindors not expecting the sudden change fell abruptly silent as they absorbed everything, and Ron was almost bug-eyed as he stared at Harry quietly accepting the invite and unpacking his items.

Harry turned and gave Hermione a small, sad smile that she seemed to completely miss in her incredulous stare. Harry laughed quietly and finished unpacking his items, turning to address Alan, "What's with the takeover?"

"The awkwardness was killing me. Besides, you need to actually get good grades. Theodore's good at explaining things so if Ron is willing to listen it should help. Besides, I didn't think it would be healthy for Ms. Roper to sit behind Hermione and consistently beg for help from Parvati's new 'boyfriend'."

Harry's face fell into a rictus of pain. Alan nodded slowly. "It's all over Ravenclaw, Harry, almost overwhelming your friendship. 'Neville's taken with Padma; did you hear this, did you hear that?'" He shook his head. "Disgusting, some of it. Whatever happened to cause this, it's big. Because he's gone completely around the bend."

Harry's response was cut off as Severus stormed in and to the front; however, the look he wore when he found Alan sitting next to Harry was almost enough to completely break Harry's funk. The shock faded into a stern 'we-will-talk' look and then Severus started the class. He stopped almost immediately, and swooped down onto Parvati, Neville and Lavender.

"I believe the class is in session. Thirty points from Gryffindor for talking while I am speaking. Do you think you would like to teach the class, Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville rolled his eyes and scowled, but said nothing past a short shake of his head.

"Good. You will not speak when I am speaking, something I'd thought you'd learned several years ago. Apparently you have chosen to revert; do not do so again. Just because you have a new girlfriend," He sneered, "doesn't excuse anything. Speak again and I separate you."

Severus stormed back into his introduction; he was almost finished when he paused and glared at Neville's table again; Neville had turned to speak to Lavender. The sly smile on Snape's face disgusted Harry. Neville's issue wasn't an excuse to jump on him with impunity, but he couldn't argue that Neville had earned it. He still hated it, though.

"Longbottom, detention. You will pay attention when I am speaking, or have you completely emptied that cavity you call a mind? Since you cannot control your flapping maw, you will leave. I won't have some air-headed plebian blowing up my dungeon because he cannot pay attention."

Neville's eyes flashed with anger, but he subdued it in complete silence and angrily packed his bag. Before leaving, he leaned down and pecked Parvati on the cheek. Hermione, watching, gripped the phial she'd been pulling from her bag hard enough to shatter it in her hand. Averill quickly pulled her hand away from it. Severus frowned, but didn't make a single mean comment. He sent Averill to follow Hermione to the Hospital wing. After he started up the lesson, he watched Harry and Ron with focused interest and a thoughtful expression. Harry's heart sank, unable to really focus on the lesson himself; this was not good at all. His friends were falling apart.

IIII

After lunch, Harry went to the library to read alone, but couldn't concentrate. His mind was running circles about Neville; he just couldn't figure out what to think. Neville's actions were so contrary to nature that Harry felt like he was floating in space. It was stupid, pointless. Idiotic.

His eyes were not watering, either!

"Harry?"

Harry looked up at the voice he didn't immediately recognize. It was choked with tears; when he found himself look at Hermione, his heart sank.

"Hermione. What happened now?"

Hermione walked slowly over, hiccupping every so often, and then she collapsed at his feet, burying her head into his lap and sobbing. Harry immediately folded over her trying to pull her back up.

"Hermione, Hermione! What's wrong, tell me what happened, what did he do?" A slow rage finally began to build, and Harry felt his hands shake slowly. "Hermione, tell me what happened."

She sniffled again, and began to talk through her sobs. "He sat with Padma again; they –they kept just chattering under the teacher's lecture no matter how many times she scolded them. He –he kissed her too. I couldn't stand it! I can't believe – I threw a hex at him, but he blocked it and glared, and I just ran out. I couldn't –can't watch him do that to me! What happened? What the Hell happened, Harry?"

"I don't know." Harry murmured. He was crying now, and he just couldn't care. "I really don't know, Hermione. He was fine five days ago, he was looking forward to coming back, to seeing you and … Melanie told me he had a broom accident, broke his wand – you saw the new one, it's much darker than his old one – and he's been a total bastard since. Maybe it's just because of the concussion, but it seems a silly excuse. I only said it because it's come up twice."

"If it's a concussion, why hasn't he seen a mediwitch yet? They should've taken him to St. Mungos for that." Hermione spat.

"Lucille," Harry balked, but continued, pinking slightly, "Lucille's a –a Slytherin friend of Alan's, she said that brain injury is delicate in witches and wizards. Adding external magic can very very easily cause more harm than good. It's best to just let the wizard or witch's own magic heal it. So … maybe he'll improve with time. We'll get it out of him one of these days, Hermione. I promise. Something will work out."

Hermione sniffled again. "I don't want to wait, Harry. He was my first boyfriend; it was … it was just, so nice having him there. He could keep up with me, he could talk to me without thinking me strange, and now … now he's hanging all over those stupid whores, girls I know he hated before, he couldn't stand them. How could he suddenly prefer them over me? How could do that, Harry?"

"Hermione, how do you think I feel?" Harry returned. "He's been my friend my whole life; I know him better than I know myself, and now he's hanging all over girls we would never have spoken to without getting our teeth pulled. He's not even speaking to me, who's been his friend for years, and he's suddenly dumping a girl I knew he cared for and all of this when I spoke to him half a week ago and he was perfectly normal! I feel like I'm walking through a sandstorm; I can't even begin to think straight! You've only known him for four and a half-years; I grew up with him. Ron's fit was clearly jealously; I don't know where this came from."

Hermione sniffed again, and then pulled a chair over and sat up. "You said he – he had a broom accident?"

Harry waved it off. "Hermione, Neville has had more accidents on a broom than I have and I play Quidditch. He doesn't. He's never been sour about it before; why should he start now? You don't even fly; he wouldn't have pushed you away because of an accident."

"He could be feeling ashamed." Hermione offered quietly. "Apparently it was bad; you said he broke his wand. I can't imagine having that happen."

Harry wavered, "I guess … but really. He knows he can share anything with me. It has to be something else."

Hermione shrugged, but her posture said she didn't agree. Harry stubbornly refused to believe her. This wasn't just shame; it couldn't be. It simply couldn't be.

IIII

Geoffrey's class was tenser than Potions, but the teacher had the acumen to not try and pair Neville with Ron, Harry, or Hermione after he asked to swap partners. Geoffrey, however, refused to pair him with Lavender; he finally settled on Averill after having a short glaring match. He watched Neville through the class with sharp eyes, and he did not miss the distraction displayed by Hermione, Harry and Ron either. It was unnerving, and Harry felt his concentration devolve into confusion once more; he didn't get the spell right at all. Neither did Hermione, nor Neville. In fact, Averill was the only one to succeed during the entire class. Geoffrey was plainly displeased, and lectured the class for the last half on concentration and reaction time. He sent them out with a longer frown, slightly earlier than expected. Neville was kept behind. Ron dragged Harry away to supper before he could try and wait.

Something inside him quailed and died as he walked away, and Harry's pain kept him from seeing clearly as he ate, and then dully walked back to the common room and landed uncomfortably on his bed.

He didn't know how long he lay there before someone else entered the room, but he did attend when he heard Neville's quiet voice, talking to himself. Harry sat up immediately and found Neville muttering over his open trunk. It shut loudly and Neville turned and froze when his eyes met Harry's. Harry searched his gaze for anything and felt a slight tug in his gut when he saw something flinch in their depths before Neville turned abruptly away. Harry stood from his bed immediately.

"Neville, what's going on?"

"Potter," Neville growled, "did I spend any time flapping my mouth at you earlier? No? Then maybe I'm not interested in talking to you."

"I don't buy that." Harry growled. "You're not that mean, you're not that stupid, and you're not that cruel. I don't know what happened to you-"

"Oh, so you mean you didn't pry at my sister about it?" Neville growled. "You didn't go and look her up rather than seeking out me on the train? Fancy that. Maybe you didn't really care. I'm not buying it, Harry, so don't even try it."

Harry felt stunned, but immediately returned the venom, "Maybe you shouldn't have thrown your watch back at Hermione, after breaking it when she'd put so much time into enchanting it."

"It was a stupid gift, why should I kept some trivial trinket?" His tone was odd, like he was convincing himself. Harry was beyond caring.

"'Some trivial trinket?'" Harry growled. "She spent hours enchanting it, you shit-head, and she did it for you and you alone! You don't just break it and throw it into her face. I can't believe you could do something so callous and cruel!"

Neville laughed derisively. "Cruel? That wasn't cruel; it was just petty and stupid."

"You hurt Hermione, Neville, and hurting her hurt me, and it hurt Ron! Blaise can't believe you, and neither can I! You're acting like Draco, you snivelling coward!"

Neville turned and Harry was stunned at how abruptly he entered a palpable rage. "Don't you dare compare me to that Death Eater scum, Potter. I am nothing like him, and I am no coward!"

"You could have fooled me. You're hanging all over the Patils; did Hermione scare you off when she proved to be just as smart as you are?" Harry scorned.

Neville's hands fisted and clenched, his knuckles white, and he abruptly turned and stormed down the stairs. Harry raced after him.

"Neville! Don't you dare leave! You're not going to leave without explaining yourself!"

He caught up with him at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed his shoulder. It was a mistake. Neville turned and grabbed him in turn, ramming his back into the wall.

"Keep your hands off me, you fucking bastard!" Neville growled.

"Hell no! You're the one who's being a bastard!" Harry grabbed Neville's index finger and yanked backwards. Neville let go and let his hand move with the force to keep his finger intact. His other hand grabbed Harry's windpipe. Harry let go to save his throat and suddenly pain exploded behind his eyes: Neville had grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall. Harry choked and Neville changed his grip and lifted Harry further back before slamming him into the wall again. He let go, and Harry slumped down the wall, dazed.

His head was pounding atrociously; Harry couldn't think, but he knew he was angry and he knew whom he was angry at. When Neville seemed ready to simply leave, Harry lifted his leg and kicked him in the knee. Neville collapsed with a scream, and turned and slapped him. Harry reached up to return the favour, pulling Neville off balance and to the floor beside him before punching him. He missed the throat, but hit his shoulder, and then everything froze. Harry couldn't move, but he could certainly hear.

"What – do – you – think – you – are – doing?" McGonagall was breathless with rage. Harry felt himself lifted up and lowered several feet into the room. The motion made his stomach rebel; he was going to throw up if he wasn't still soon. McGonagall put his down, and he swallowed quickly to try and stem the desire to retch. The nausea was flowing in waves behind his eyes. She released both of them at once, and Harry collapsed forward to cradle his throbbing head. Neville said nothing; it was Hermione who finally spoke up.

"Professor McGonagall?" Her voice was tiny.

McGonagall was silent for a second before she nodded carefully. Hermione coughed lightly before continuing, her voice trembling with emotion.

"I'm not sure how it started, but several of us heard yelling upstairs shortly after Neville came through from supper and went up. Harry had gone up earlier, immediately after he finished. They came back down, Harry yelling at Neville before he grabbed Neville's shoulder. Neville –" Her voice broke, "He – he grabbed Harry and threw him into the wall." She choked again, and Ron stepped up beside her, whispering. She sat, and then Ron continued in a dull voice.

"Harry just – just slumped to the ground, and Neville just stood there until Harry stirred and kicked his knee, knocking him down. They were back to trading punches when you came in."

Harry lifted his head in time to see McGonagall turn her burning eyes on them. "Mr. Longbottom, you will come with me. Mr. Weasley, would you please help Mr. Potter to stand and follow. He needs to go to the hospital wing if he can walk without vomiting. Harry?" She inquired softly.

Harry valiantly tried to stand, but couldn't quite make his arms and legs work with him. Ron came over and pulled him up, and dazedly, he followed as he was led to the hospital wing. He couldn't really think straight, and felt his mind drifting as they silently made their way to the realm of Madam Pomfrey. She immediately set upon him, and Harry's mind slowly cleared until she handed him a phial and told him to drink. Obediently, he did so. He regretted it immediately; the potion tasted foul. It did clear his head straight away, and he remembered with worry and anger the fight he'd just finished. However, when he looked around, McGonagall and Ron had apparently already left, and Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a set of the pyjamas her patients wore. Harry felt his stomach sink.

"Madam Pomfrey, do I really need to stay overnight?"

"Mr. Longbottom gave you a concussion, Mr. Potter." Pomfrey snapped. "You will remain for observation. You will not complain. You don't play around with a concussion."

"Will I start acting as ridiculous as Neville because of this?" Some of his confusion must have lingered, because he never would have asked that normally. Madam Pomfrey frowned.

"What makes you ask that? People don't suddenly change their behaviour over a minor concussion, Mr. Potter. Wizards don't suffer that at all; it's rare even in muggles. Mr. Longbottom may simply be growing up, Mr. Potter, as difficult as it might be."

Harry finally acquiesced and took the clothes, but continued, "What's the verdict on our fight?"

Madam Pomfrey frowned at his phrasing. "Mr. Longbottom will be in detention for a week, and McGonagall has taken him to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore. You will be receiving a day's bed rest and then three days detention in my care, since most of your healing will be on your own and I need to observe you anyways for any complications. Concussions are not to be trifled with."

"I heard from Melanie Neville had a concussion over the break." Harry offered. "I really –"

"Harry." Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "Alice has been trained in medimagic. She knows as well as almost any mediwitch how to treat the condition and any complications. Neville is fine, no matter how combative he might be. Sometimes teenagers will go through moods that seem completely unreasonable. Now, change and lie down. Things will sort themselves out, I promise."

Harry obediently let her raise the curtains and changed, crawling into the hospital bed and lying down to go to sleep. He didn't believe her about Neville, though. Something was wrong, and if it wasn't physical, it was something else. He knew he'd seen something bothering him when he'd caught him in the dorm; he just needed to figure out what.

A/N: taps chin and hums Well, stuff is happening. You just need to figure out what. grins Thank you for reading, please review?

And on another note, the last year is at the beta. Now we just wait for her to return it, and then ... Good things happen, I'm sure. Looking forward to what you all think.

Fire & Napalm