I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER OR ANYTHING AFFILIATED WITH IT. I ONLY OWN DEVYN AND HER PARENTS.

Chapter 15

The following days after Black's break in were fraught with tension and Devyn found herself being a little more jumpy and on edge than she usually was. Of course, no one but Devyn and Neville knew why she was like this.

That nightmare had unnerved her more than she cared to admit, not only because of Black killing Neville and Harry, but her godfather (while in werewolf form) taking a bite out of her after he realized that she killed Black in revenge.

She tried desperately to shake it off, but her nerves were determined to remain frazzled for as long as they could.

"Devyn, are you all right?"

Devyn was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of Hermione's voice. She smiled when her eyes focused on her friend, hopefully reassuring her. She knew that Hermione was concerned about her, but she didn't want to tell Hermione about the nightmare she had. She already relived it almost constantly during the day, in her thoughts, since that night, and the last thing she wanted was Hermione having to share in that terror.

"I'm fine, Hermione. I'm just tired...didn't sleep well last night," Devyn told her. Again, she thought to herself. Trying to sleep soundly was becoming a hellish practice for her and she didn't know how long her mind could handle the lack of sleep she was suffering from.

Hermione nodded, however reluctantly, and said nothing more on the matter. Devyn went back to her breakfast; luckily, her appetite was one thing the nightmare had not taken from her. Lack of sleep was dangerous enough on its own, without adding lack of appetite to it.

Neville, who was sitting beside her, like always (my loyal guardian, she thought fondly), leaned over and whispered, "Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey. She might be able to help."

Devyn looked in his eyes and, noting the deep concern there, smiled and held his hand in hers. "I've thought about it, but I don't think she can fix this. I've got to work through it on my own, Nev."

"No," he replied. Devyn looked at him in slight surprise. "You will not go through this alone. I promise you that." The determination and resolve in his eyes was rather startling, although by now, she shouldn't be surprised at the level of dedication he had for her.

She thanked her lucky stars everyday that she had Neville in her life. He was as much a part of her as Snow was, and to imagine a life without him was both impossible and terrifying.

She nodded and smiled at him. "Thank you, Neville."

The simple statement of gratitude took him aback. "For what?" he asked.

"For being you," Devyn told him, a genuine smile lighting up her features. Neville felt a smile just as wide make its way across his face; the last couple of days, he had been missing Devyn's smiles. Normally, they shone as bright as the moon, but the last couple of days, she had been fighting the lasting effects of the nightmare and, as a result, her smiles were rather rare. It was good to see one on her face again, even if it wouldn't last long.

"Have you told your godfather about...you know...?" Neville asked. Devyn shook her head and her smile lessened slightly.

"I haven't seen him in days. He's been...under the weather, I think. Besides, I don't want to bother him with something as silly as a nightmare. People have them all the time."

Neville wanted to argue with her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. There was no point, really. Once Devyn had made a decision about something, there was no changing her mind; especially when it came to her godfather.

"Well, at any rate, we have to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts class," Neville said. Devyn nodded and rose from their seats in the Great Hall.

They walked hand in hand towards the doors and suddenly found their way blocked by Malfoy and his goons.

He didn't say a word; he just stood there, smirking away. Devyn's patience had taken a massive blow as of late and she was about two seconds away from giving Malfoy something to cry about, something much more than his minor injury from Buckbeak. His arm was still in that sling, even though Madam Pomfrey would have been able to heal it in a trice.

"I will ask this once, and once only, Malfoy, because I have very much less patience than I normally do right now, and normally it's not a lot, you know, so: What. Do. You. Want?" Devyn told him, her voice telling of the little patience she was in possession of.

He looked down at Devyn and Neville's joined hands and smirked at her. "Why are you still with Longbottom here? Is it out of pity?"

Devyn's lip curled and she growled, through gritted teeth, "I thought we cleared this up in first year, Malfoy. Neville is million times the man you'll ever be, although why I'm with him is really none of your business. Now get out of my way before I really give you something to tell your daddy about."

Malfoy leaned in as he continued smirking. "At least I have a father, Murphy."

Devyn's free hand curled into a fist, and she started shaking with fury, but Neville's hand tightened around hers and remembered where she was and who she was getting angry at.

"I'd rather be an orphan than have a father like yours, Malfoy. Now get out of my way. You're not worth my time."

She and Neville pushed past Malfoy roughly, who was white-faced and tight-lipped with anger. But, like the coward he was, he did nothing, nor did Crabbe or Goyle.

Devyn breathed deeply once they were halfway up the Grand Staircase.

"I'm glad you walked away, Devyn," Neville said. "Hitting him would have only gotten you in trouble. No matter how satisfying it might have been, and no matter how much he might have deserved it, it wouldn't have been worth it. He's not worth it."

Devyn nodded. "I know. I just can't stand him. He's so smug about everything. Feels good to get one up on him every now and again."

"No, I get it," Neville said. Devyn looked over at him and frowned when she saw that he was looking at the floor, his face a storm of emotions.

"Neville, what's wrong? You weren't listening to the nonsense that came out of his mouth, were you?"

Neville didn't answer for a while, but when he finally did, his question nearly knocked the wind out of her.

"Why are you with me, Devyn? I'm not brave, like Harry, or funny, like Ron...I'm nothing special."

Devyn stopped walking and moved to stand in front of him. "Neville look at me," she told him. "Look at me."

He finally raised his green eyes to meet hers and she put her hands on his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes.

"If I wanted to be with Harry or Ron, then I wouldn't be with you. But I don't. I want to be with you. And who says you're not brave, or funny? You're both, Neville. You've got more bravery in you than I think you know. And you're funny in your own way. That's better than being funny like Ron. Because you're funny like Neville, and that's what makes you, you. You might think you're not special, but I wish you could see yourself the way I do. If you could, you'd see how amazing you are. How loyal, how brave, how funny, and how loving you are. And how I can't imagine my life without you in it. Neville, you mean the world to me and I will tell you that as long as you need to hear it. Okay?"

Neville smiled at her and hugged her tightly. Devyn wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. She listened to the beating of his heart and smiled when he whispered, "Don't ever leave me, Devyn. I don't know how I'd live without you."

"You don't ever have to worry about that, Neville. I promise. Now let's get to class, okay?"

"Okay."

They resumed walking and went the rest of the way in silence, but they didn't need words. The way their fingers laced together said everything that needed to be said.