Title: I'm so sorry, Neville
Prompt: Kim Possible. (Reasoning: Found out it was a spy show. It rickrocketed from there.)
Words: 1061
Warnings: Um… inaccurate events? I can't remember which order the points at the end of the year were given in, anyway. I guess that's the point of fanfiction, no?
Tip… tap… went the rain outside…
Tip… tap… tip… tap…
Neville Longbottom swallowed, and checked his watch. Neville was a smallish boy, with a long nose, and an expression on his face that suggested unrest. He had the width and height of someone who has not been through… not the flames of Hell, but rather the flames of Australia, or someplace similar.
He yawned, slowly, and glanced around the room. It was late. Too late. Maybe they were asleep by now. It made sense. He would be asleep if not for them, anyway. His mouth, eyelid, and leg, all twitched at the same time. A twig snapped, making Neville glance around in panic, before realising that it was merely a bird on the window sill.
He continued to wait in silence, straining his ears for what seemed like an eternity. His head hurt. This was probably a bad idea. What if he got caught? What would happen to him? And how would he explain it? It- sounded petty, even in this head.
'Oh, yeah, I know I wasn't meant to be out of bed, but I was just making sure Harry Potter and his friends don't get Gryffindor into any more trouble. Well, I guess I'll go now.'
Probably even McGonagall didn't care that much about the house cup, so as to actively spy on his classmates to stop them getting into trouble, and losing points.
'Well, Mr Longbottom, I cannot believe that you would do such a thing! Spying, in Gryffindor, too. I cannot express how disappointed I am with you.'
He shuddered. And how would Harry, or Ron react?
'You spied on us? Blimey, Neville, low blow. Harry doesn't get into that much trouble. Well, he does, but still!'
And then, he would have to go home to Gran, and-
No, no. Not going there.
Silence is an amazing thing. It is perhaps, ironically, the loudest sound you can hear. It brings thoughts to your mind that simple things, such as sound, cannot give. Thoughts of worry, or of calm. If you were to remain silent in a speech for a few moments, you build up interest in what you have to say next. In this situation, it was making Neville uneasy.
He wiped the sweat off his brow. A moment later, he wished he hadn't, for the door up to the boy's dormitories opened, and out came Harry.
Harry Potter, the famed 'Boy Who Lived', looked quite as uneasy as Neville, as he tip-toed past him, and decided to sit in an armchair by the fire. Moments later, Ron Weasley walked out, with more confidence than his companion. His startling red hair blended in with the fireplace. They appeared to be waiting for something.
Neville would have rather liked to wipe the sweat off his brow again, as it seemed rather more necessary now, but decided against it, on balance, as a third person entered the room, this time from the other end. Hermione joined the boys by the fireplace, but did not sit, instead jerking her head towards the exit questioningly.
Ron broke the silence with a falsely careless 'Sure', and stood up. They were halfway towards the exit when Neville decided that it was now or never.
"Stop!" he shouted, louder than he had meant to, and nearly knocked a glass to the ground, causing all four of them to jump. Neville shivered. Could his body please stop making slight movements?
They stood in silence for a few moments, and Neville, noticing Harry slowly stepping back towards the Fat Lady, added,
"I mean it! One more step and I'll… jinx you!" he said, flustered and hurriedly grabbing his wand from his robes.
Hermione stepped forwards, slowly outstretching her wand.
"I'm so sorry, Neville. Petrificus Totalus!"
And instantly, Neville felt as though his limbs were being pulled together into the rest of his body, and felt himself crumble, stiff as a stone, to the ground with a thud, causing Ron to whimper slightly. He waited for a few seconds before hearing the sounds of their footsteps, and the sound of the Fat Lady's portrait being swung open and closed, and then…
… nothing.
He swore internally. So he had failed. He had failed in the one thing he had set out to do. All he had wanted to do was stop the trio from getting Gryffindor getting into more trouble, and he had failed spectacularly. Now who knew what they were going to do?
It was a few hours before he started to get feeling back to his limbs, and got up. He considered going after them, but looking outside, he thought he would rather go back to bed, and see how bad it was in the morning.
…
"Yes, yes! Well done Slytherin, well done, but I would like to take into consideration some recent events, and dish out some last minute points. First, to Ms Hermione Granger, for a cool use of intellect when others were in great peril, I award 50 points!"
There were cheers from the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables, amidst a huge round of applause. When it eventually died down, Dumbledore continued.
"Next, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in years, I award 50 points to Mr Ronald Weasley!" Dumbledore shouted, rolling the 'R' in Ronald.
Another round of applause from three of the four tables, this time punctuated by the squeals of joy from the Weasley twins and Percy boasting about how 'Yes, that person who is getting those points for my house, has the same surname as me, and the same hair colour as me, is my brother!'.
"And for pure nerve, and outstanding courage, I award 60 points to Mr Harry Potter!"
This was followed by the loudest applause yet, and people were trying to snag a glance at Harry. Someone or other on the Gryffindor table yelled 'We're tying with Slytherin!', which seemed to only make the applause louder. It eventually died down.
"And finally, it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies! But a great deal more to stand up to your friends! So I award 10 points to Neville Longbottom!"
It was surreal. They had won. He had won it for them. He was finally being noticed. And in his happiness, he almost forgot to thank Hermione.
