Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling.

The first part of The Neville Trilogy

NEVILLE NUMQUAM

chapter two

dude, where's my toad?

Meanwhile, Neville was having troubles of his own. He had spent most of the time since that memorable Potions lesson looking for his lost toad, otherwise known as the beloved Trevor. Lavender had offered to help, and although Neville was grateful for her assistance he was a little concerned that her technique needed refining.

For one thing, it seemed to involve bending over in front of his face a lot. Which was silly, seeing as Neville had already looked there.

Neville sighed and slumped down into his chair, pretending that he did not hear Lavender huffing and stalking off. He looked up to watch her mumbling to herself as she stormed up the stairs towards the girl's dormitories.

Now, contrary to popular belief, Neville was not a total idiot. He knew exactly what Lavender was after. He knew that he had grown up to be quite an attractive young man. He himself acknowledged this by spending a few minutes each day looking in the mirror and flexing his muscles.

"Cor! You're gorgeous!" Dean Thomas had remarked one memorable morning. Neville had whole-heartedly agreed.

Neville was flattered by all the interest girls were giving him since he had become totally hot, but he had to admit he simply wasn't interested. He couldn't have sex with a girl just because she was smoking hot and bending over in front of him. He had standards, after all.

If she had actually found Trevor it would have been another matter entirely though.

With a groan, Neville hauled himself out of his chair. He decided he'd head down to dinner now, while it wasn't too busy and nobody would spill pumpkin juice down their fronts to try and get his attention.

When he arrived in the Great Hall he sat down beside Ron Weasley, who was shovelling food into his mouth at an almost terrifying pace. Opposite them was Hermione, who was watching Ron as if expecting him to choke to death at any second. Harry was missing; presumably he was still sedated in the Hospital Wing in the hope that that way the student body could have a quiet dinner.

Draco Malfoy, however, had other ideas.

"Oi! Oi! Weasley!" he shouted. "Can you hear me, Weasley?! I'll bet you can! I was just thinking about your mother! She's so fat, isn't she, Weasley?! Weasley! Oi! Weasley!"

"Just ignore him, Ron," Hermione said through gritted teeth, though it must have been more for her benefit than Ron's, as he had entered that rather unique state where all concentration was focused on getting everything remotely edible within ten feet of him inside his stomach as quickly as possible, which most people considered to be through the mouth but Neville knew that the day Ron mastered the art of inhaling chicken wings through his nostril he would be truly unstoppable. While in this state, Ron Weasley's body seemed incapable of such trivial functions as listening or breathing.

"Oh! Any wonder your family is so poor! She eats all the food! She's so fat, you see! Weasley! Oi, Weasley! Did you hear what I said?! Weasley! Your mother, she's so fat! Do you want to know something, Weasley?! Weasley! I shagged her, Weasley! That' right! Did you hear what I said, Weasley?! I shagged your fat mother! She was rubbish! Weasley! Oi, Weasley! Your mother's so fat! Did you hear what I said, Weasley?! Oi! Weasley! Your mother- ACK!"

Malfoy's shouts were cut out by Hermione attempting to beat him to death with a chicken wing. Ron looked up for one moment, possibly only because he sensed that something edible had been snatched from his immediate vicinity, before returning to his meal.

Hermione slid back into her seat once Snape had come over to try and stop Malfoy from crying so much.

"Honestly, Ron!" she said hotly.

"Wha?" Ron asked, opening his mouth, which caused a giant lump of whatever he'd put in there to fall out again. It hit the table with a thud that caused one first-year to scream.

It was then that Madame Pomfrey entered and strode up towards Dumbledore, whose eyes had glazed over and was currently living in his world where elves danced around, pigs flew and Slytherins and Gryffindors were civil to each other. His snapping out of his dream world was noticeable by the virtue of his eyes starting to twinkle.

Madame Pomfrey looked worried, which naturally caused Hermione to become frantic.

"Has something happened to Harry? Where's Harry? Is he hurt? Oh, if something's happened to him I will never forgive myself!"

"I'm sure Harry's fine," Ron said, displaying a rare moment of tact that had everyone around the table looking slightly shocked.

"Voldemort wants him alive so he can kill him personally. He's probably just been abducted or something," he added.

The Great Hall echoed with the sound of the hands of a hundred Gryffindors striking their foreheads.

At that point Dumbledore rose from his seat. He held his hands up for silence, and even the currently bleeding Draco Malfoy obliged.

"Please remain calm!" he announced. "The saviour of our world has been kidnapped by forces unknown; presumably forces that intend to torture him to insanity before granting him the slow, merciful release of death." He paused to allow several members of the student body to faint dramatically and proclaim their lives to be over. Hermione wailed. "Have no fear, our own forces will mobilise soon. But first, there is a delightful bit of cheesecake with my name on it."

Dumbledore sat down and proceeded to eat said piece of cheesecake (and he took his sweet time about it too).

Hermione, meanwhile, was not reassured by Dumbledore's promise of action.

"Oh, Ron, I never told him I loved him!" she wailed, burying herself in the unusually long arms of the aforementioned Weasley.

By far the most striking thing about Ron was the fact that he was very tall and very thin. His arms were so long his hands swung somewhere close to his knees. His red hair remained and his freckles were everywhere. No matter how far he rolled up his sleeves or his shorts the offending freckles seemed to carry on. The female population had once wondered if Ron was freckled even in his most personal area.

Dean Thomas, who was famous for having no concept of personal space, had told them yes.

"Hermione, didn't you tell him like twelve times a day?" Ron asked.

Needless to say, Ron was not much use when it came to comfort though. At least his arms were long enough to wrap the whole way around Hermione though. Due to her assets no other Hogwarts student could muster it. Hagrid could though. Then again, Hagrid made a living out of mollycoddling the most ferocious magical beasts to roam the planet and persuading them to help out with mundane tasks like pulling carriages and cleaning windows. He was relatively uninterested in something as harmless (if perhaps a little bit mentally unstable) as a hormonal teenage girl.

"That's not the point, Ron!" she snapped. "I meant I never said it and had him say it back."

"Well, I suppose we could try and rescue him," Ron mumbled. Hermione leapt out of Ron's arms.

"That's a brilliant idea, Ron!" she exclaimed. Ron looked rather pleased with himself.

"I thought of it all by myself, you know," he said, puffing his chest out.

"But where to start?" Hermione asked. For a moment Ron looked horrified that he might have to actually have to think his idea through, but Hermione began pacing. Ron breathed out, glad that she was apparently thinking the idea through herself.

Hermione's eyes lit up.

"I know!" she announced. "To the library!"

Ron insisted on banging his head off of the table four times before he would follow her.

The rest of the Great Hall continued dinner as if nothing had happened. They were used to Harry and/or Hermione making a scene at dinner. Many of the student body believed them perfect for each other, if only because they both over-reacted to everything.

###

Neville put aside his homework and returned to his favourite pastime: looking for Trevor. He had often considered getting a tank or something for keeping Trevor in, but he didn't want to limit Trevor's freedom to wander Hogwarts as he saw fit.

Actually, now that he thought about it, didn't owls eat toads?

He was saved from this terrible thought when Hermione came in; followed closely by Ron (who had probably never looked more fed up in his life). She picked him out quickly enough, before storming over to him. On the way she sent a group of first years sprawling.

"Neville!" she said breathlessly. "Can I talk to you?" Neville nodded. Several girls at the next sofa (who had been planning just such action for about an hour now) glared at Hermione.

"Neville, I need your help," she said, dropping onto the same seat as him. It was an armchair, so there wasn't exactly much room. She was practically on his lap.

Ron stood two feet away staring into space with his arms hanging limply at his sides.

"Why me?" Neville asked. "I mean, you have Ron." He glanced at Ron, who had not moved and appeared not even to be breathing.

"Oh, yes, Ron," Hermione muttered darkly. She looked up at Neville and suddenly brightened up. "But what I really need is a hero and your hair so soft."

Neville was suddenly aware that Hermione was actually now straddling his lap and running her hands through his silky soft hair. The girls at the next sofa were currently practicing their pronunciation of the Killing Curse.

"I – I use conditioner and everything," Neville managed to choke out. Hermione lowered her face as close to Neville's as she could, which was not very close as her ample bosom was squashed against Neville's chest.

"So, will you help me, Neville?" she asked. Her voice was so husky and sexy. How could he say no?

But first he had to pay a quick visit to the bathroom, to deal with some, er... guy issues that the proximity to Hermione's legendary cleavage may have caused.

"Why don't we ask Malfoy?" Neville said. His face was all red and he was slightly out of breath, but he was feeling much better about the whole scenario. "He's the expert on all things Death Eater."

"Good idea. He'll be hanging about inside the boys' toilets about now," Hermione said. Neville looked questioningly at her.

"Oh, Malfoy... he hangs about in toilets," she explained. "Yesterday he was in the girls' toilets. We actually had a rather meaningful discussion about eyeliner."