Neville's role in this story is not what it was in canon.
At three-thirty that afternoon Neville and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.
The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Neville was nervous for many reasons, partially due to the poor quality of brooms the school had. For the so called greatest school of magic, it really was a dump in many ways.
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Neville glanced down at his broom and sighed. It was rotting in some places, and he swore he could feel the magic leaking out. The thing was a piece of rubbish.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Harry Potter's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground.
Taking one deep breathe, Neville commanded. "Up!" Remembering Cassius's raw faith in him, the one person to look at him like he was actually worth something. He felt a surge in his chest and before he knew it, the broom was in his hand.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—"
It was then that Goyle bumped into him, something that he doubted was an accident, and he started to rise into the air after pushing back. Before he knew it, he flew up and smashed down hard, white hot agony shooting through his wrist in an instant. Standing upright, he took a deep breathe, barely holding back tears.
"Broken wrist," Neville heard Hooch mutter. "Come on, boy—it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class. None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
Neville, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. "Thank you, I really didn't mean for that to happen."
"I know... it was an accident."
"I wanna continue trying though, who knows when flying will come in handy..."
She beamed at him. "You're a good lad."
"Can... can we get Cassius, He's my only friend here... I don't want to be by myself."
She sighed. "What class is he in?"
He should be done with classes, he is probably on the main floor practicing DADA Spells. Quirrell isn't doing a good job teaching."
She sighed deeper. "Trust me I know... We have to go past that floor anyway, if he's there we'll get him."
Neville was beyond happy to see Cassius practicing in their classroom five minutes after walking into the Castle. He was practicing a tickling curse and proper dueler stance, there were a few duelers books in the Library they found the day before. The moment he saw Neville he turned scary. His brown eyes filled with a rage that made Neville tremble, both in fear but also happiness that someone would feel that way in his defense.
"What happened?" He intoned, his tone deeper than it usually was.
"Goyle bumped into me when we were practicing flying, I started to rise and I fell. Broke my wrist."
The boy sighed. "I am glad you are okay..." He grabbed his bag. "Let's go to the Hospital wing."
"That was the goal, Mr. Campbell." Hooch said, smiling.
As they hurried along, Cassius grabbed Neville's other hand, rubbing the top of his hand soothingly. "Do I have to beat up Goyle?" He whispered.
Neville frowned for a moment. " Not today." They both gave Hooch, who was glaring, winning smiles. She started to chuckle, realizing or believing they were kidding, Neville knew better.
Cassius would definitely beat up Goyle.
With that, they finally got to the Healing Wing, and were greeted by a kindly older woman that Hooch introduced them to. "Madam Pomfrey, this is Cassius Campbell and Neville Longbottom. Mr. Longbottom broke his wrist, I am afraid, it was entirely an accident while flying."
Older adults Pomfrey tutted. "Let's get you checked out, my boy."
And they sat down, while Hooch hurried off. Neville saw Cassius watch the lady with intense curiosity as she waved her hand in a simple manner, setting and soothing his broken wrist. He smiled at that. "Ma'am, can you explain to Cassius how you do that before he explodes?"
She turned, seeing Cassius' curiosity. "I would be happy to help you, dear boy. Always could use more healers. The spell is a simple one, Episkey! I really hope all young ones would learn this spell. It heals most broken bones or overall damage. It really is very easy to cast."
And just like that, they both learned the spell, after a lengthy promise to only use it as a last resort or if needed before a proper healer helped them. Both made their promises before moving away and hurrying back to eat.
It was there that they heard of the news. Harry Potter, breaking rules that would have gotten anyone else punished, got on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
Neville just sighed, grateful that he already had stopped caring what happened to the Lions. He had seen a lot of bullying, heard a lot of people mocking him behind his back, and honestly he just didn't care. Cassius was what mattered to him, Hogwarts and house loyalty be damned.
He would sleep happily and easily not caring about any of the others...
Chapter end, tell me what you think in the reviews.
This was a joy to write.
Love, your Ninja Overlord,
Mika.