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Chapter 5: Taking Advice from Neville Longbottom

It was now two weeks before the Christmas holidays, and life was uneventful for Draco for the first time he could remember. Looming over him was the warning he had received some several months earlier, but with no follow-up, Draco forced himself to push it out of his mind. He had developed such strong ties to his peers at Hogwarts-he couldn't bear the thought of betraying them and returning to the dark side. Still unsure of what he would do if the time came, Draco tried earnestly to ignore the warning and continue living his life as HE wanted.

Being back at Hogwarts, he had never felt so genuinely cared about. He was surprised, but thankful, for the blossoming friendship with Neville. The two continued their mutual tutoring, and soon started spending more time together. They often went to meals together, and Neville's grandmother even sent Draco a letter wishing him a happy Christmas and inviting him to stay with the Longbottoms should he ever need a home for the holidays.

Draco's friendship with Harry and Ron was also going much better than anyone could have anticipated. While Harry seemed to forgive right after their conversation, it seemed harder for Ron to forgive Draco for his past life. Draco couldn't blame him-he had been truly awful to Ron, mocking his family, their financial situation, and their supposed blood traitor status. Draco hoped that with time he could prove to Ron his change of ways, but not even that truly concerned Draco. Ron was pleasant enough, and Draco was content to let him feel however he wanted.

Much more pressing to Draco was his emerging friendship with Hermione. The pair had sat next to each other during every History of Magic lecture, and he often sat next to her in other classes as well. He enjoyed her company, and he surprised that he still got butterflies in his stomach every time he saw her. He found it hard to contain his feelings for her, but the respect that he had for her forced him to keep quiet on the issue.

It was extremely difficult for him, and he found himself confiding to Neville one night when they were in the Herbology greenhouse.

"Neville, you ever meet a girl that you wanted but couldn't have?"

"What, like a mermaid?" Neville said distractedly, carefully pruning his Venomous Tentacula.

"No, Neville, not like a mermaid. Like an actual human girl who is…unavailable."

Neville looked up and furrowed his brow in concentration. "Um…I guess so. I never really pursue many girls because I am horribly awkward around them. So I guess they are all unavailable to me. Why? You like a girl who is unavailable? Is she a veela? I heard those things are wicked. Beautiful at first, but really wicked." Neville dropped off, looking quite terrified at the thought of the monstrous women.

Draco smiled. Neville always was good for a laugh, "No, she's not a veela. She's just…a girl. But more than just a girl. She's everything. Smart, funny, brave, beautiful. She makes me feel so comfortable with her, but like nervous and uncomfortable too, you know what I mean?"

Neville shook his head, looking rather puzzled.

Draco laughed, "I make no sense! I sound like I have a schoolyard crush, which I guess I sort of do. Oh, I don't know…" He muttered in frustration.

"Okay, well I know that I am no authority on women, but, Draco, maybe you should tell her how you feel. Wait, why is she unavailable?"

Sighing, Draco started "She has a boyfriend. They seem happy, but I can't help my feelings, Neville. Homewrecker wasn't on the top of my list of things to do this year, but I can't control how she makes me feel. If she would just give me a chance…" Draco looked pained, and Neville looked more puzzled than before.

"Who is this girl that has you all flustered? I have never seen you behave this way. Ever. You're being…emotional. Is it Hannah Abbott? She is awfully pretty. But I didn't think she was dating anyone…Ooo, I know! It's a Patil..can't quite tell them apart, but maybe you fancy one of them…I assume you can tell them apart."

Draco chuckled at his friend's mind wanderings, "No, Neville. It isn't a Patil or Hannah. It's…Hermione." Draco drew a deep breath and blushed at the sound of her name. He nervously began drawing designs in the dirt with his foot waiting for Neville to respond.

Neville grinned, "Really? That's great, Drake-she's such a nice witch, and bloody brilliant, a bit scary with that brain sometimes, and she and Ron-" Neville broke off. He looked sheepish, and Draco finished his sentence, "And she and Ron are dating. Yeah, that's the unavailable part I mentioned."

Draco ran his hands over his face, and sighed. "What am I supposed to do, Nev? She's, she's, Merlin, she's perfect. I'm utterly at a loss for words around her. She is too perfect to put into words. Just thinking about her makes me grin like a bloody fool. I don't know how I can handle this."

Putting down his tools and gloves, Neville grasped Draco on the shoulder. "Do you really like her?" Draco nodded, "Yeah I do."

"Then, there is only one thing you can do. Tell her. Or you will regret it forever. Girls like Hermione don't come around every century, and if you've fallen for her, then let her know. But be prepared for the chance she rejects you."

Draco frowned. He knew Neville was right, but the thought of proclaiming his feelings to Hermione was still scary as hell. He chuckled, "You know, Neville, for someone who claims he's too awkward to get a girlfriend, you sure do know a lot about women."

Later that night, Draco lay awake long after his bunk mates had fallen asleep. He reflected back on his conversation and the ease with which he could talk to Neville. In the dark, Draco climbed from his bed and from beneath his mattress, silently pulled out the message he had anonymously received from a Death Eater-We will rise again and expect you to rise with us. What could that possibly mean? Who was in charge of the broken Death Eater ranks?

After the fall of the Dark Lord, his followers scattered like rats on a sinking ship, every one of them trying their hardest to avoid imprisonment for their crimes. In the aftermath of the war, Draco saw clearly for the first time that the Death Eaters were all cowards-they were those who were not strong enough or brave enough to defy Voldemort. Draco suddenly felt very ashamed-he had been one of those people who had followed the Dark Lord rather than be brave and fight him.

He looked at his roommates in the late moonlight. They were all his age, but they had all defied Voldemort. They had been brave and risked their lives to defend their way of life. They had lost parents, siblings, and friends in the war-they had nearly died protecting the people they loved. Draco couldn't help but be rather impressed by their courage. He had been too scared to stand up to his father, much less the Dark Lord himself. After the war, Draco had told himself that if a similar situation ever arose in the future, he would be sure to be on the side that fought for what was right. Draco vowed to never let his cowardice cloud his decisions again, but yet here he was. He had received an ominous and foreboding letter from the Death Eaters, and he had no idea what to do. It would be terribly easy to go along with their plans, but Draco felt sick at the thought. How could he fight his new friends? How could he know that he would be partially responsible for their deaths? Draco knew the brave thing to do would be to resist the Death Eaters, but that was akin to a death sentence. He thought of Hermione and what she would think of him if he returned to the Death Eaters. The thought made him nauseous.

Sighing, Draco forced himself to push the issue out of his mind. I won't solve this tonight; I'd be better off sleeping. He drifted into a restless sleep, hoping that everything that was happening around him was a bad dream.

Early the next morning, Draco woke, sweating and panting. He had had vivid dreams all night of Death Eaters running through Hogwarts and murdering his new friends. And Draco had helped them. He felt sick. The image of Hermione dying in the Great Hall felt permanently seared in his brain. Was his subconscious telling him that this was the path he wanted? Was it inevitable that he would fall back in with the Death Eaters?

Nauseous, Draco sat up, looking around him. Neville's bed was empty, but the rest of his bunk mates were sleeping peacefully. Quietly, Draco swung his legs over the side of his head and buried his face in his hands. What was he going to do? It was only a matter of time until he was contacted again. He knew he would eventually have to make a decision what to do-he would go back to the Death Eaters or he would be brave and stand with his new friends. The decision felt like a looming guillotine over his head, and making it worse was not knowing when the decision deadline would come.

Draco didn't notice Neville come back from the shower and was surprised by the hand on his shoulder. "You alright, mate? Having night terrors?" Neville looked concerned.

"Oh, uh, no. Just sleepy, is all." Draco lied.

"Hmph, sounded last night like you were having some pretty bad dreams, Drake."

"What? I was talking in my sleep?"

"Well, not so much talking," Neville started, now slightly embarrassed he had brought it up. "More like groaning. You sounded really upset."

"Must have just been a bad dream, I guess. Someone must have cancelled my subscriptions to Quidditch Coverage," he said with a forced laugh. Neville laughed too, and dropped the matter, much to the joy of Draco. He had just lied to Neville for the first time in their short friendship. He had told plenty of lies in his days as a follower of the Dark Lord, but he never felt guiltier about it than right now. Neville trusted him, and Draco really did like Neville's friendship. He didn't want to lie, but he knew that he was unready for Neville to hear about the message, knowing that Neville would want to hear Draco renounce the cause, something that Draco wasn't ready to do. Telling Neville would make his choice official-he would have to be on the side of good, or cut all ties with his news friends. Draco wasn't ready, and feeling worse about himself than ever, he slowly got up, knowing that it was hardly 6 in the morning, and it was already one of the worst days since he had been at Hogwarts.